From Humble Beginnings
by jankmaster98
Summary: What do a human ranger, a royal bastard, and an elf mage have in common? Very little, except the responsibility to end the Blight and keep their ragtag group of newbie Wardens and misfits minions from killing each other. Oh and did we mention the civil war? Multiple Warden story with a Human Commoner Orign added into the mix. Significantly AU
1. Origin Part one

A/N Okay Dragon Age! My obsession with Bioware has now led me to this fantasy franchise and to this story. This fic will try to make a story with the human commoner origin, and if enough people ask I will see if I can make it a multi-warden adventure. Anyway, I'm decent in ideas, not good at executing them, anyway we'll see how this turns out.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bioware, Dragon Age, or the names shamelessly ripped off of J.R. Tolkien's works. All I might own is Arnor's character if not his name.

_About six months before the Battle of Ostagar_

The village of Redcliffe wasn't considered the most prosperous or the most lively place in Thedas, but to Arnor Edain it was home. Arnor was a tall, dark-haired, lightly bearded young man with a decent strength built up from his time spent in the fields and in the wilds on the occasional hunting trips. It was during these adventures with his friend Tomas that Arnor honed his skills with the bow and arrow and put into practice the wilderness skills he acquired from a book bought from that traveling dwarf. After all, you can't learn something like rangering entirely from books. From time to time Arnor also practiced with the sword his father used against the Orleasian forces during the war. Loyal, honest, and reasonably intelligent, the young farmer's son had no idea of the role he was to play in changing Thedas forever.

Arnor had just finished working in the fields, now having to do double duty after his older sister left to join the Templars. "The Templars.." He thought, "The holy warriors of the Chantry, the defenders of the Maker's people." To most of the Edain family they were the greatest heroes that ever were, aided by the fact that every generation at least one child in the family was sent to the order as per an old tradition. To Arnor however, they were seconded by the Grey Wardens. All his life he had heard and read stories of the heroes who ended Blights and saved all of Thedas. His hero was the black sheep of the family, his uncle Drudan, who signed up to fight the darkspawn as a Warden. Many times a young Arnor would listen to the stories his uncle told him with great interest. Stories of venturing into the Deep Roads to slay the foul creatures at their source, of traveling to lands as far away as the Anderfells, and of the brotherhood and sacrifice of the Wardens both around and before him. All the time however, it always seemed like he was not telling the whole truth when, but this only added a layer of mystique onto the Wardens to Arnor. It had been some time since his uncle's last visit, but the dream of becoming a Warden still lingered in his mind, but that type of thinking was useless, he was the one who would have to take care of the land after his father passed, he couldn't think leaving now.

The work of the day now finished, the Redciffer decided to go to the tavern for a quick drink and maybe see some old friends. It used to be something he did on a daily basis, not always getting a drink but always going to socialize with friends and try to hear news about the outside world. Sometimes the world seemed so small with only the farm and the village filled with only a handful of people. Walking at a brisk pace amid the setting sun and red cliffs, he finally reached the tavern and opened the door to a warm smile from the waitress currently serving drinks.

"Hey there farm boy, fancy seeing you here! What can I get you?"

"Bring me some ale, and Bella I come here all the the time, you shouldn't be surprised to see me!" Arnor answered sitting down in one of the empty chairs.

"Yes, but you rarely come this late into the day, and you used to some more often. You also used to be here before the sun started setting." Bella replied setting his drink on the table after being tossed a few coins

"Well I've been working double since Morwen left," Arnor said between sips "My father says we don't have the coin to hire extra hands. That's part of the reason I'm taking that job from the Chanter's Board. Although even if we did hire people father says the extra work builds character. "

"Character isn't something you really build up working around here, not with the customers and the boss."

"How has Lloyd been treating you anyway?"

"Truth be told," Bella replied sitting down after making sure Lloyd wasn't looking, "It has been less than ideal. The man is a pig who gropes me and pays dirt for my work."

Quickly pushing his drink aside Arnor shot up from his seat only to be stopped by Bella

"What are you doing!?" She asked easing him back down

"I'm was just going to have a talk with your boss about working conditions."

"I know that look in your eyes Arnor, it's the same look you had when you had when Tomas "borrowed" you last cookie. That look goes before a fight, and I don't think you'll hold back like you did before."

"You can bet your soul I won't. What kind of friend would I be if I just stood by and did nothing? You stuck up for we when the mayor thought I was the one painting on the golem."

"You'd be a friend getting both himself and me into trouble, and from what you've told me your parents can't afford you finding yourself in a cell. And besides if it was you who painted those things on Shale it would have been much less... Vulgar."

"Fine, but are you sure you don't want me to get Tomas and have a few words with him?"

"Thanks but no thanks, it's not a good job, but it is a paying job. I'll save my coin and get out of this place soon enough." She said with barely concealed false hope

As the two were talking a young man with an old bow and quiver strode through the door.

"Speak of the magister!"

"Hey, there you are. I've been looking for you!" Tomas exclaimed

"What is the occasion?"

"Don't you remember? You were supposed to help me plan the bounty hunt we're undertaking soon!"

"Shit. I forgot about that." Arnor muttered

"It's alright we still have time, just like you always seem to have time to spend with Bella over here.." Tomas remarked sitting down at the table

"Shut up, its not like that!" The two others responded quickly

"I didn't say anything!" Tomas exclaimed with a wide grin on his face, "But in all seriousness, we have to plan this one carefully. These bandits are a tad bit smarter than the wolves and bears, if not by much."

"I know, I know, but these guys are just thugs. We've handled worse, or did you forget the time we stumbled upon that pack of wolves?"

"How could I forget. I still have scars from the alpha's bite."

"I was the one who had to stitch you two back into shape," Bella interjected "if your folks knew the trouble you boys got into they wouldn't let you go off even after they died!"

"And we are forever thankful for your expert surgery skills. We have to find a way to make you a doctor." Arnor joked

"And give up my illustrious position here?"

"You're probably right. You wouldn't survive a day working on a farm let alone as a non-Mage doctor."

"If you two are done, there's a bounty hunt worth six sovereigns that needs planning."

"Fine," Arnor relented taking one last gulp of his drink, "Sorry Bella have to run, bandits to find and sovereigns to earn!"

"It's no trouble, it's always nice to see you."

"Come on lover boy let's get going." Tomas exasperated dragging his friend out the door

The two made their way to the frozen golem that rested in the middle of the village, their old meeting place since they were boys. Tomas brought out a map of the area and a particularly detailed one of the forest they were planning to venture into.

"So what's your grand plan Tomas? The chanter's board said their were only about four bandits. We can most likely pick off at least two of them before they close into range, more if we have the element of surprise."

"The chanter's board said there were at least four, if the information we have about their hideout is true, we have no idea how many of them there really are."

"You make good point, anyway we can't go in unprepared, do you have all the supplies gathered?"

"I have the extra arrows and health potions all packed. Just in case you happen to find anything useful I also brought along some extra flasks to store the mixtures."

"Well, at least if we die in this endeavor no one can accuse us of not trying to plan ahead."

"That's great, thanks for the reassurance. By the way, what really is the deal with you and Bella anyway?"

"I'll tell you the day you tell me what's up between you and Kaitlyn."

"Nothing," Tomas said a little too quickly with a blushing face "I'm just helping her take care of her brother that's all!"

"Right... anyway let's review this adventure of ours."

The two went over the plan of attack again; Arnor would scout ahead using his woodcraft skills to stay hidden and possibly pick off any unlucky enough to come across him. Tomas would trail behind picking off any stranglers and provide covering fire if they stumbled on a group too big to challenge. In a pitched battle the two wouldn't fare quite as well. Despite his practice, Arnor's skill with a sword was nothing to take to a tournament, and Tomas' close quarter weapon was a small dagger ill suited to fighting in a prolonged struggle. Where their skills lied mainly was in their archery, both had been hunting since before they could remember. Tomas focused on slow deliberate shots at long range to kill single, powerful targets, while Arnor delivered arrows faster than the eye could see and could shoot down whole groups with speed and precision.

Going over the plan one last time the two resolved to continue on the bounty hunt, and set out in two days to win themselves more money than they had seen in years. With the sun now down and the moon now high in the evening sky, the two men decided to return to their respective homes.

Arnor began the long walk to his family's farm house with the light of the moon shining full on the water of Lake Calenhad. His parent's land lay on the outskirts of Redciffe, far from the main village and the Arl's castle. Approaching his family's dwelling Arnor could see the light of a fire coming from the window and smoke rising from the chimney. Opening the door Arnor was met with the stern stare of his mother who sitting down on one of the benches around the dinner table, while his father was sat asleep in one of the chairs in the small area considered the living room.

His mother was a caring if slightly firm woman who was worked to wits end trying to manage two children growing up, and now trying to keep her remaining child out of trouble. Often times she blamed her descendants, her son in particular, for giving her the grey hair that she kept tied up in the back of her head. His father was a more gentle soul, surprising given his experience as a soldier in King Maric's army in the rebellion. He carried several scars on his body from that time, and the wear of the life of a soldier showed on his face as well as in his eyes. Always the voice of calm and support, Amroth Edain was the stabilizing element in the family, and if the women in the family were to be believed, the source of Arnor's sense of humor.

"Ah, here he is! What have you been up to serah? Have you been drinking over at Lloyd's again? You go there and the next thing I know you're singing bawdy songs to Bann Teagan!" His mother scolded

"Mother that was one time! One time! Besides I'm not a boy anymore you don't need to fuss over me, I can take care of myself!"

"But no matter how old you are you are still my son, and you are the one to inherit this land after your father and I pass. I must try to look out for your well being no matter how old you get." She said her green eyes softening a little.

"I appreciate the thought, but I was planning the bounty hunt me and Tomas are going on. This is my chance to earn three sovereigns, that's enough to hire us some workers and maybe buy some more land!"

"Whose voice am I hearing talking about sovereigns and land?" spoke Arnor's father rising from his light slumber "Is that my son, the boy who used to run around pretending he was flying on a griffon?"

"Yes it's that young man Amroth. Finally home so late after the sun's down."

"Don't be too harsh on him Eowyn, he did all his work in the fields before he went off I checked."

"I suppose so, still I'm not sure about this whole bandit hunt." She said before addressing her son. "You've fought wolves and bears but never people."

"What are you talking about?" Arnor joked "My friends and I have gotten ourselves into a lot of scuffles, mostly in bar rooms but still!"

"I mean in real combat, in battles to the death, are you actually ready to kill men, to fight foes who can reason? I'm not sure you're ready, I believe you should rethink this whole endeavor."

"Have a little faith in our son love! I've seen him shoot his bow and I've trained him with my sword." Amroth replied "He will do fine so long as he's careful and quiet. Although that last part might be tricky for him!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence father!" Arnor laughed as his mother tried but failed to glare daggers at her family members "In all seriousness, I have to do this, its the best way to earn the money to get help around here. I'm not just staying that so I can shirk off work. I want to try to do something to help this family beyond simply plowing and sowing fields."

"No it's not just that," Amroth replied "You want an adventure. You don't think I noticed the way you always jumped at the chance to hear my brother's stories, or go on trips to hunt for bears, wolves, and other wild creatures? Well I for one can understand it perfectly. This maybe the closest thing you get to one."

"Huh, I guess I can't stop you then," Eowyn admitted "Not anymore than I could deny this man fighting against Orlais. You still have two days to prepare from what you've told me. You better make the most of it, I want all your work in the fields done by tomorrow."

"Yes mam!" He said grinning like an idiot before rushing off to to his room and flopping into his bed

"I swear that son of ours is going to be the death of me."

"Don't you worry so much. He's our son after all he'll be able to look out for himself. Besides two days is a long time. Who knows what could happen in the meantime?"

While not much happened in Redclffe in the meantime, in other parts of Ferelden events were taking place that would have far reaching effects on the history of the world.

In the city of Denerim a young Templar-in-training mused while his future was being deliberated by a dark skinned man with an impressive beard, and the Grand Cleric who he considered the crankiest person in all of Thedas. The three were in the Grand Cleric's office in the Chantry and the man of the our was quickly getting tired of standing for so long and torturing his feet. Truth be told he was incredibly eager to leave the Templars and do anything really, now actually would be the best time. He had completed his training, had learned all the abilities necessary to be one of them holy warriors, and had not yet been addicted to the lyrium that was used to keep the Templars in line. Yep, Alistair Theirin was ready to leave the Templar Order and spend his days fighting darkspawn.

"You are asking for a man sworn to the Maker's service to leave his post, I will not allow for it!" The Grand Cleric protested

"As I understand it the young man has not taken his vows as of yet, I need recruits and he seems the most suitable. You have many fine Templars here madame, I don't see how the loss of one will damage your order." the Bearded man replied smoothly and diplomatically

"Your Wardens are not facing a Blight! What need could you have of his servant of the Maker, to fight your

"If the Chant of Light is correct, the darkspawn are enemies of the Maker and his creations. They also have mages in their numbers, surely someone trained in the arts of the Templars would be useful."

"If I may say something, your grace. I for one would love to go for the whole Grey Wardeny-thing. It would be like a field trip, but with Darkspawn and Deep Roads and possible death by monsters, but I'm game." The young prospective Warden offered.

"Know your place and duty Templar, the Chantry did not train you to protect against magic only to lose you to the Wardens!"

"Oh but it would be so much fun, and besides I hear the Warden uniforms are much more comfortable, this Templar plate armor itches something awful." Alistair joked

"If you will not give the young man to the Grey Wardens, then I must invoke the Right of Conscription." Duncan finally said playing his trump card

"Fine then take the boy, I will not deny the Wardens their ancient rights. Leave my presence you exhaust me." The aged lady requested

Leaving the room with his Grey Warden savior Alistair breathed a sigh of relief. Thank the Maker he was out of there. Although he had no idea what being a Warden entailed other than life long devotion to killing ugly beasties, he was sure that it was better than hunting and guarding mages. Decided that he wasn't compeltely fond of being left in the dark, the now ex-Templar began to talk to Duncan.

"Well, so I'm part of the anti-darkspawn club yay! What's first on our agenda? He asked

"We are going to Redcliffe. My scouts have heard reports of a darkspawn raiding party of considerable size traveling through that area. Perhaps we will also find other potential recruits. "

"I can't wait, returning home, except this time to look for monsters and warriors, this should be fun!"

* * *

So as you can see this won't be your typical Origins story some changes to the story and setting will be made. When I started this fic I had no idea how much the dialogue dominated the story, so if that's not your cup of tea don't worry. The next chapters will have much more action as Arnor and Tomas fight bandits and maybe a few of the orcs *cough* I mean darkspawn. Also need a beta for this thing, would really help.

**Please Review! And leave feedback as to whether you want this to be a multi warden story!**


	2. Origin Part two

**Disclaimer: Still Waiting for Bioware to give me Dragon Age, but it hasn't happened yet**

**A/N Thank you to everyone who has favorited, reviewed, or followed this story. The feedback I get is invaluable.**

The days between the meeting by the golem and the actual excursion passed quickly and soon Arnor had packed his supplies, did the farm work early, and set off with his gear for the small forest several miles from the familiar hills and the Lake Calenhad. For such journey Arnor attired himself with leather armor and gloves, boots long since caked with dry mud, and a thick green cloak useful for hiding among the brush and trees. For armaments he took with him his old long bow and quiver full of arrows which he slung across his back, and his father's sword used during the occupation; a weapon which Arnor strapped to his belt unlike nearly everyone else in Thedas.

At his side was his pet wolf affectionately named Fluffy. While nobles and lords may call Marbari their pets, Dalish Elves call their halla partners, and Dwarves call nugs food; a country bumpkin calls a wolf his companion. The story of the wolf begins when both of them were pups by both species standards. Arnor was barely 12 when he was working in the fields and heard a howl of pain from the outskirts of his parent's land. What he saw was this: a young wolf pup barely out of his mother's womb by the size of him trapped in one of his father's leg hold traps. He freed the little thing, and ever since then, Fluffy as Morwen named him, was Arnor's constant companion and partner who acompanyied him on all his little adventures and expeditions.

Their trek took them across several other farm houses and fields filled with crops, mostly wheat and corn, growing tall and causing allergy inducing pollen to fill the air. The further they got from the cliffs and shores of Lake Calenhad the more the landscape flattened, and the trees and bushes that could never grow in the rocky uneven ground around his home became more and more frequent. The fall colors were beginning to show as the leaves on the trees started to turn to a burnt orange color, except for the rare evergreen that held onto its small green needles even as the seasons turned. The snow capped Frostback Mountains loomed in the distance as a fall breeze blew through the plains bringing flocks of birds along their migratory journeys. Reaching the small river that ran outside and through the forest, Arnor caught sight of Tomas sitting on a rock strumming the string of his bow absent mindedly.

"Been waiting long my friend?" Arnor asked, startling Tomas who nearly fell backwards into the water before Arnor grabbed him

"Wha- Oh its just you. Maker, how do you sneak up on people like that?" He questioned as he picked up the bow he dropped on the ground and stood back up

"It's a practiced skill, that ranger guide was pretty thorough. Being a ranger, isn't just about calling on attack animals now is it?" Arnor asked as he bent down and rubbed Fluffy's fur "You're a good attack animal aren't you boy, yes you are!"

"I'll never understand how you got him to like you even after all these years."

"Hey! You just don't like him because he used to chase ya!" Arnor teased

"Yeah, into the lake!

"One time!" Arnor defended as he continued to pet his furry companion

"And one time is all it takes," Tomas shot back "Just like how you will always be remembered for the best performance of "The Naughty Lay Sister" ever in the history of Redciffe."

"I'm never going to live that down am I?" Arnor asked clutching his head as he remembered the damning incident

"No, no you're not." Tomas said grinning

"Hey don't make me sick Jaggers on you he's still a vicious little bastard!"

"For the love of Andraste, what is the deal with you and animals anyway? First it's the racoon, then it's the wolf!" Tomas cried out raising his arms in exasperation

"Just be grateful I only brought Fluffy," Arnor laughed "I secretly have a pet bear and giant spider in my employ!"

"I wouldn't be surprised, sometimes I think you were raised by animals and your "parents" found you in a cave."

"Yeah I think I only have the energy to handle one animal in battle though, so Fluffy will have to do. Unless you want to go back to the attack racoon." Arnor asked with hopeful grey eyes

"No, just no."

"Fine, fine, I'll stick with Fluffy then. I know what I'm doing, do you?"

"Yes! Now get in there and stay out of trouble!" Tomas said while practically shoving his friend into the forest

"Alright I'm going! I'm going." Arnor said as he and Fluffy stumbled their way into the wood

Trugging his way into the trees Arnor was followed closely by Fluffy. Fluffy was surprisingly quiet for a beast of his size, making no more sound than the various other animals scampering through the brush of the forest floor. It was not long before the ranger could see a target walking through the landscape. "A sentry.." he thought, meant to keep an eye out for potential bounty hunters like himself he deduced. The man was dressed in ragged leather armor, armed with a bow and arrow and two daggers strapped to his belt. Hidden by the trees and his green attire, Arnor might as well have been invisible to the man barely twenty feet away from him. Taking an arrow from his quiver Arnor coated the tip with deathroot extract and fired. The arrow struck home and the man quickly dropped to the ground out like a light.

While Tomas was an experienced forester and was stealthier than most, Arnor could hear him coming not quite a mile away.

"You got him?" The brown haired man asked slightly nervous about the unconscious person in front of him.

"Well he's out cold and not responding," Arnor said as he poked the criminal with a nearby stick for good measure," So yeah, I think I got him. Do you have the rope?"

"Right over here," Tomas responded before handing his friend sufficient rope to tie the unconscious bandit to a nearby tree.

"I've been thinking, if they have enough men to have this bloke as a sentry, then maybe there's a bit more than four bandits. Hold up here and stay out of sight. I'm going to look ahead and see if I can find their camp or cave or whatever. I'll get back here as soon as I can, if you hear any horrible screams of pain get out of here, they're probably mine."

With those words words Arnor melted back into the trees, followed quickly by Fluffy as Tomas found himself left with Mr. Out Cold for company. Deciding to try and be proactive he set up a few rudimentary leghold traps in case someone or something got a little too close to his hiding place. Settling himself in for a short wait, he decided to much on the dry biscuits he brought only to remember how crappy they were after the first bite.

* * *

_Elsewhere in the Forest_

On the other side of the decently large forest two human beings were roaming aimlessly, at least one of them was. One of them seem to be totally sure of where he was going, the other had no idea in the slightest and was simply following his more experienced companion.

"Not that I don't enjoy a wilderness hike every once and awhile, but what exactly are we doing in this place?" Alistair asked before being hit in the head by a branch Duncan had just pushed out of his way "Ow."

"This forest is where the darkspawn party has made camp, while you are not a Grey Warden yet, we cannot let these monsters roam freely. We should be fine as long as you stick close to me and remember your training." Duncan reassured him as they continued to venture further and further into the forest.

"Right... My training, great memories that experience. Anyway how can you be sure? I thought darkspawn only dig around in the Deep Roads or places where the land is all dead and evilly."

"At times raiding parties come up from underground to raid settlements and pillage the land, but I can tell the darkspawn are here, Grey Wardens can sense the presence of the creatures. Don't worry, we will have ample warning before the darkspawn swoop down upon us."

"Yes swooping is bad.."

"Keep your wits about you Alistair. The darkspawn maybe mindless, but they are vicious beyond measure."

"Not as vicious as these squirrels!" Alistair remarked as squirrel droppings landed in his hair and on his armor, "I think the entire forest hates me."

With that the ex-templar and the former thief journeyed closer to the darkspawn, and to one of the future Heroes of Fereldan.

* * *

The foliage grew thicker as Arnor walked carefully among the leaves and branches, cautious of any foes human or animal. Fluffy trailed behind him still alert for enemies of the one who called his aid. The wind whistled through the branches as leaves decorated the forest floor like a intricate quilt. Burnt orange and brown they fell, but most hung onto the trees from whence they came resulting in a forest full of color both top and bottom. Many animals scurried along oblivious to the wolf and his human, many were scampering along trying to gather food for the winter before the chill set in. It soon became clear to Arnor that he was heading in the right direction after he spotted tracks on the ground, relatively fresh along a path that must've been carved out of the woods. The dirt corduroy road seemed to extend quite a distance, and from the number of footprints Arnor could tell it was a group of at least eight men that had trodded this path recently. Deciding to follow the road but stay out of sight, Arnor and Fluffy melted back into the foliage and continued forward following the road and footprints.

It was not long before he found their campsite, several worn brown tents in a large clearing surrounding a medium sized campfire. Quickly scanning the area Arnor counted six men milling about, four sitting around the campfire eating a meal and two guarding a pile of plunder most likely taken from unfortunate travelers. Wondering where the seventh and final person was, he soon got his answer as a giant bear of a man emerged from one of the tents. The man was over six feet tall and carried a mace that looked like it could crush a man's head with a glancing blow, adorned in crude chainmail armor, this behemoth of a man was no doubt the leader of these thugs. Listening in on their conversations, Arnor could make out most of what they were saying, despite most of it sounding like nonsense.

"Hey Bert, do you ever feel like some days we don't exist? Like they don't really happen like they're implied to have happened." The man said as he munched on a cooked deer leg

"What are you saying? Tim that's the biggest load of crap you've ever said, and that's saying a lot." His cohort replied as he spat out a small bone from his soup

"Quiet the both of you," the leader demanded "We need to keep an eye out, the new guy said he might have seen darkspawn roaming in our woods."

"He's always seeing things boss, I remember the time he thought he saw a tree walking about. Imagine that!" one of the ruffians remarked

"Which begs the question, where is he anyway?" another one of the other bandits asked "He's usually back here by now, I swear, the man can smell food a mile away."

"Do you think one of us should go look for him boss?" Bert asked, silently hoping he would send someone else

The large man contemplated for a while before deciding.

"Bert, Micky, go and find out where that softy's gone off to. If you don't find him in an hour, get back over here."

After he said that two of the bandits rose from the long bench they were seated on and went into their tents to grab their weapons. Deciding he had heard enough Arnor and Fluffy removed themselves from their hiding place and began the trip back to Tomas' position while Arnor tried to formulate a plan to take out seven bandits with about a dozen arrows and only enough deathroot extract for two. Then Arnor began to add Fluffy into the equation of the coming attack. Surely having a large wolf fight for you is an advantage, but whether or not it would be a critical factor in the battle was up in the air. Determining to reach Tomas before the two bandits discovered their cohort was missing Arnor raced quickly but quietly across the forest floor.

* * *

"Bored, bored, bored. That's what I'm feeling right now," Tomas said as he sat and continued to chip away at the hardtack he had been eating, "You know when me and my buddy planned this thing, I thought I would be fine with being the one to come in after the coast was declared clear, but now I'm just bored." Tomas confessed to the man he and Arnor tied to the tree

His captive wiggled around in the uncomfortable rope bindings as he answered "I hear you, you know on most of the raids I was always in the back, always getting a piss poor share of the lot. For a while I was fine with it, no injuries, no being the guy the "hero" takes a swing at, but soon you want in on the action."

"You know you're awfully chatty for a bandit and a prisoner, and I haven't heard you yelling at the top of your lungs for help." Tomas remarked absentmindedly as he actually managed to take a bite of the arrow proof substance

"We'll if I did that me mates would probably think I was going off again," He grinned "but I swear I saw im! Hurlocks and genlocks moving about through the woods!" Suddenly overtaken by fear at the memory of the monsters

Tomas suddenly spit what little of the biscuit he'd eaten, choking on some of it before standing up and looking his prisoner dead in the eye. "What! You saw darkspawn? Why didn't you clear out of here?"

"Like I said, the band isn't really that inclined to believe me. I think they send me out here on sentry duty because they don't like me much."

"Why would they send the person they don't trust to be the man who watches for danger? Even if they don't fancy you too much?" Tomas asked suddenly taking an interest in what Mr. Not-Out-Cold was saying, while trying to hold back the fear rising in his chest.

"I never said they were a smart batch of people."

Tomas "Fair enough."

While the two were talking, Arnor and Fluffy had returned after weaving their way past several well placed leghold traps.

"So you're awake I see," Arnor said as he sat down on a tree stump "You've been keeping my friend company?"

"Yep that would be my lot in life, you must've been the one to put me down. You look like someone dressed to blend into the trees, I would feel really put out if this guy was the one to get the drop on me. Nice use of deathroot by the way, I've used poison on occasion, but I've never put it on an arrowhead. Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen anyone put poison on to their arrowheads. How'd you think of it?" He asked still squirming against his bonds.

"I don't know it just seemed like the logical thing to do." Arnor said shrugging his shoulders

"If I may interrupt you two, what did you find?" Tomas asked

"Well I've got good news and I've got bad news."

"What's the good news?"

"I found their campsite."

"And the bad news?" Tomas asked

"Oh not much, just that we're really outnumbered and that they're maybe darkspawn in these woods, and the bandits are led by a bear of a man who might need more than a few arrows to take down."

"Wonderful, all according to plan then." Tomas remarked as he rubbed his temples in frustration

At this juncture two things happened; one several of Tomas' traps went off and two, a blood curdling scream went up into the air that told immediately what it was.

"Darkspawn?" Tomas asked, his voice carrying a tone of hoping against hope.

"Darkspawn." Arnor confirmed, the stories of his uncle more than enough to confirm what that unholy sound was and the destruction and death that came with it.

"Shit."

"Um.. Either of you two want to let me down from here? I don't fancy death by tainted blades and arrows." The captive asked suddenly even more eager to get out of his restraints if that was even possible.

"How can we be sure you won't just stab us in the back the first chance you get?" Arnor asked as he hurriedly loaded extra arrows in his quiver.

"I may be an outlaw but I'm not a fool. Three people is better than one against a group of mindless killers. Give me my bow and I'll lend you a hand." He said, desperation evident in his voice.

"I'd rather not run the risk of being betrayed after dealing with the creatures, what do you think?"

Arnor quickly ran the odds through his head and decided that one more blade was one more blade and set about cutting the ropes that held the man to the tree. His decision was compounded mainly by the sound of trap activations and footsteps that brought the sound of numerous foes.

"Thanks be to you ser," the outlaw said as he stretched his limbs a bit, "Now if you'll hand me my bow I might be of some use to you in the survival category."

"Don't thank me yet," Arnor said as he handed the man his longbow and quiver, "They're several unholy creatures about to attack us, unless you're the running type."

"I've got less chance on my own than with you two, and I don't like my odds of finding my former associates in the midst of this. You and your entourage probably represent my best chance of survival." Out-Cold reaffirmed as he took up position with the two other fighters.

"Alright then that sounds like a self serving enough reason for an outlaw," Tomas joked trying to lighten the mood, "But what should we call you when you're running in terror and we want you to stand and fight?"

"You wound me ser to think that I would so easily run from danger, but to answer your question my name is Daveth and..."

His life's story was cut short as a hurlock arrow grazed the top of his head and landed in the tree behind him. As the party turned their heads to look for the source of the arrow they saw one hurlock archer reading his bow as well as a half dozen genlocks running at them with murder in their eyes.

_Special Thanks to FalconHawk for beta-ing this grand experiment, be sure to check out his stories!_


	3. Origin Part three

**A/N Entering the Final leg of the Origin story. Thank you to all the people who gave this story a chance and alerted, faved, or reviewed.**

Firing faster than he ever thought possible, Arnor quickly aimed and fired multiple arrows into the lead genlock. Fluffy had gone on the offensive deciding on leaping, gnashing, and clawing at an unlucky darkspawn. Tomas had shot down the hurlock archer that peppered their group with skill and precision, the tension and stress of the situation honed his accuracy as he fired in deadly silence. His complete opposite was Daveth who fired both quickly and wildly, slightly panicked in the presence of everyone's childhood nightmare. He barely managed in a lucky shot to the head of an oncoming genlock.

"This really throws out the whole bounty hunt thing doesn't it?" Arnor asked Tomas brandishing his sword when the darkspawn grew too close for comfort.

"Do you really want to joke now, now?!" Tomas asked as he drew his dagger nervous about his chances in close quarters.

"Damn those guys. I told them they was here I told them!" Daveth screamed as he unsheathed his dual daggers "Why doesn't anybody listen to me?"

"Heads up!" Tomas called out as he parried a crude tainted blade aiming to chop his head off.

Refocusing, Arnor kept his distance from the creature he was facing. His sword was longer than the genlock's dwarf-sized blade and Arnor used the distance to his advantage. He was constantly moving out of his opponent's effective range while maintaining his own striking distance. Parrying another slash from the creature he countered with a horizontal strike that slammed against the crude metal of the round buckler the darkspawn used for defense. The force of the impact severely wounded the monster's arm as it dropped the shield in pain and left itself open to a killing blow from the Edain family sword. Tainted blood spattered all over the farmer, staining his armor and weapon in the toxic substance. The black blood seemed to singe exposed skin and burned everywhere else. Even with all his uncle tales, Arnor could scarcely believe that this stuff rain through those creatures veins. Hard to believe that this would be one of the key ingredients in the mixture that changed his life forever.

Daveth meanwhile was having a rough time maneuvering in the confined area of the forest, but managed to get the drop on the genlock fighting Tomas. Swooping down upon the unfortunate creature, Daveth plunged his daggers into the back of the marauding darkspawn. Driving his weapons well into the beings inner workings he stabbed the thing once more to ensure the death of the darkspawn.

The spot was now clear, at least for as long as Tomas' traps held. The three leg holds he placed earlier now held in check some very angry hurlocks. They were quickly dispatched by the party's arrows from a safe distance once located. With the darkspawn gone, at least for now, the three humans took the moment to breath and plan. On the minds of Tomas and Arnor was the viability of continuing the bounty hunt with the darkspawn presence confirmed, and what to do with their captive now free. Daveth on the other hand was debating which rath to risk, that of the two hunters and their wolf, or the boss who was doubtlessly upset at him. Their ideas on how to proceed were interrupted however by a cry of terror coming from the area of the bandit camp. Although Daveth held no extraordinary loyalty toward his fellow lawbreakers he had grown fond of some of them. Deciding to risk arrows in his back he bolted in the direction of his camp. Arnor and Tomas still in a daze from the battle barely registered the man leaving, but Fluffy was not so shocked and raced after his prey with all the speed he could muster. For a split second it was total silence between the two friends. One look of bewilderment between them later, and they were off.

"Tell me this is a dream right now, tell me this is a nightmare," Tomas demanded as they sprinted after Fluffy and Daveth "Darkspawn are only in nightmares." Tomas tried to reassure himself

"And you didn't believe me when I told you my uncles stories!" Arnor accused "You thought I was making it all up!"

"Is now really the best time to vindicate your uncle's memory?"

"Might as well do it now, considering we could all probably be dead soon." Arnor replied as his voice took a decidedly grim tone.

"I guess you're right.."

They continued running until they saw the form of their former captive on i in the middle of the forest path Arnor had recently trekked through. Beside him was Fluffy who surprisingly wasn't growling at the man, but instead looked at the sight in front of him along with Daveth. Before them were two badly mangled corpses, recently dead, shot full of arrows in several places, and cut up with crude blades in a thousand places. Arnor held back the urge to vomit... unsuccessfully as the bile from his stomach drenched a nearby bush. Tomas instead put a comforting hand on Daveth's shoulder as he stammered out.

"Um.. I'm I'm sorry I.."

"It's funny," Daveth muttered barely over a whisper "I didn't know these two's names, I was among them for None of us were the most honest people, but they didn't deserve this. They couldn't have done anything to deserve this. "

"We could try to give them a burial or something." Tomas offered as he tried to look away from the gruesome image before him.

"No, not yet. The things that did this are still out here and we can't leave ourselves in the open like this." Daveth reasoned, getting up on his feet.

"The tracks lead back to your camp," Arnor informed as he rejoined his companions after emptying the contents of his stomach. "Six hurlocks it looks like, the prints are too big for genlocks. One of them is a big one, most likely the alpha or leader of this band." He said as he kneeled down to get a better look.

"These were my mates. I'm going to find em and gut these beasts the heartless monsters they are!" Daveth declared as rage overcame fear and he ran off in the direction of the campsite

"Dammit not again!" Tomas yelled as he and Fluffy raced after him trying to stop him before he got himself killed

Arnor started up after them but then felt a burning sensation unlike anything he had felt before. He also felt weak and tired as he moved with a heavier step. Shrugging it off, at least for now, Arnor continued after his friend, his pet, and his quarry.

The smoke rising from the clearing was far too much to be created by a campfire, and indeed most of the flames were from the tents and carts set ablaze by the darkspawn. For the most foul things in the world do not seek riches and material as the free races of the world, besides the call of the old gods is nothing but destruction and death in the mind of these beasts. Around the campsite the bodies of the men who took these worldly possessions lay, some with looks of horror plastered on their faces as they witnessed their last moments at the hand of a hurlock, others in pure panic barely aware of the situation before they were killed. Not even those who had been these people's victims would have wished this fate on them. For this was not combat for victors and vanquished after both had fought. This was simple murder.

Daveth arrived back only to see the look of terror on the last remaining bandit's face as he was cut down by a hurlock far larger than his brethren. Adorned in armor and weapons superior to the average mindless beast, this one seemed to have a limited control over the others as he seemed to order them about with a savagery that would have done his magister forefathers proud. The outlaw currently hiding among the surrounding trees would have none of that as he rushed headlong into the nearest hurlock and stabbed it again and again even as his victims five comrades were closing in on him. It was at this point Fluffy camp to the rescue by pouncing on one of the approaching monsters. Then two arrows shot out from the trees too fast for the hurlocks to raise their shields to block the offending projectiles. Both shots went into the leg of the large leader, but to the archers horror the alpha simply ripped out the annoying arrows and let out a warcry that echoed through the woods.

The advantage of surprise gone and arrows proved to be of little detriment, Arnor drew his sword and charged at the hurlocks even as his body seemed to be working against him more and more with every step he took. He yelled as he went, half out of bravery, half out of fear and desperation. Tomas tried to get off another shot with his bow, but with the hurlocks how aware of his position they maneuvered their shields to block the archer's main weapon. Tomas, like his friend then resorted to drawing his melee weapon and charging. Daveth still had not yet gotten off the hurlock he had engaged and was still stabbing as if the wounds would bring back those familiar now dead faces, unaware of the battle around him. Arnor and Tomas then found themselves facing two hurlocks each, with the alpha setting his sights on the green cloaked ranger.

"Keep fast. Keep moving." Arnor repeated in his head as he dodged, parried, and swung. _Dodge parry, swing!_ "Keep moving or you're a dead man."

Nothing seemed to work, if he could put one off balance, the other would force him back on the defensive. It didn't help that both his opponents were stronger and more savage than he as the burning sensation within him grew more and more. The alpha was especially vicious as he swung his sword with enough force to break a dwarf's shield arm. Arnor was quick and careful but his stamina was waning. It was bad enough fighting these things, but worse was fighting as body seemed to be drained by something he could not pinpoint.

All throughout the fight Arnor was beginning to hear music, horrible, beautiful, intoxicating music that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere. Parrying the blow of his smaller opponent and then striking the alpha with his sword pommel Arnor allowed himself to breath and scanned the battlefield. The hurlock Fluffy was fighting had pushed him off and Fluffy now made jumping slashes at his foe while the hurlock tried to strike at the wolf with little success. Daveth was gone, and there were footprints soaked with black blood leading away from the clearing. Arnor swore as he realized now they were outnumbered almost two to one.

Leaving, Tomas to face two hurlocks with nothing but a small dagger and a shield he had picked up from the one slain hurlock. The small reach of the dagger meant that Tomas had to get in close, but it was easier said than done.

"Block, duck, dodge, stab, pray." Tomas thought as he also wondered how the whole thing went to the void so quickly. "Alright that's it, no more bounty hunts from today onward, if I survive today that is."

The one hurlock tried to bash with his shield,_ Dodge left, slash now_! The other one tried a different approach as it slashed at his head forcing him to duck, but giving Tomas the chance to strike at the legs of the monster perhaps crippling it.

Unless something happened soon the Redcliffe hunters were going to be darkspawn chow at best, or something else entirely, something too dreadful to think about.

Arnor quickly had to refocus on the two darkspawn charging him but their rage and lack of finesse had given Arnor the opening he needed. As the smaller of the two charged with a reckless downward slash ready, Arnor ran him through with his sword, but was unprepared for the difficulty in removing it. Out of the corner of his eye Arnor spotted the alpha ready to kill him and he rolled out of the way, but he didn't quite roll in time as the slash from the hurlock grazed his back, cutting past the rough leather armor. Arnor grimaced in pain as he felt the blood trickle down his body, but he couldn't worry about that now. The hurlock alpha meanwhile had overshot and stumbled several feet before regaining control. At this stage he had to fall back on the bow and arrow as he lay bruised on the floor with his mind blurred by fatigue and that horrid, wonderful song. After standing up and praying a silent prayer to the Maker, Andraste, or whoever was listening he fired an arrow at the charging alpha. The arrow struck home in the knee of alpha as it simply continued its charge.

_Knock, aim, fire, repeat, knock, aim, fire, repeat._

Time seemed to slow down for the ranger as he aimed and fired with speed that a Dalish Elf would respect, but even as arrow after arrow hit the alpha the beast would not fall. The creature seemed possessed, with its one mission in life to kill the human it was rapidly approaching. As the monster grew closer Arnor tried to will his legs to move and found he could not. All he could do was stare at the thing charging him and hope that Morwen would carry the Edain name better he had. Before the killing blow could be land though, holy energy struck out at the alpha, knocking it down and stunning it for a few crucial seconds.

"That works best on mages, but I guess that worked here too." A chipper voice spoke coming from the other end of the clearing.

"Focus Alistair, we are not done yet." A much more authoritative voice reminded as its owner drew his swords and charged

"Right, right. Alright them, who ordered death?" The chipper voice asked as he ran towards the hurlock Fluffy was facing.

_Block, twist, pivot, strike._ Weapon training intended to be used against apostates and abominations seemed to work just as well against darkspawn. _Bash, stab, slash. Look awesome._

The senior warrior on the other hand turned his attention to the alpha rising up after shrugging off holy smite. The bearded warrior ran up to the recovering hurlock alpha. The monster made several clumsy, but powerful strikes. This was of little consequence to the dark-skinned man as he easily parried and dodged the alpha's attacks as if he was performing a well rehearsed dance. The beast grew frustrated and with frustration warriors grow sloppy. A wide sweeping strike gave the unknown fighter the chance to stab the monster with his dagger. As the hurlock suddenly registered the blade in its gut the warrior brought up his longsword and decapitated the monstrosity. After killing the alpha he turned to Tomas' direction and quickly ran to aid the young man before he lost his internal organs.

The young man was in rough shape after fending off repeated assaults, but he still had the strength to keep the darkspawn occupied. Duncan and Alistair took the opportunity to dispatch the final hurlocks with two different methods. The splintmailed warrior bashed the hurlock with his trusty shield and stabbed the hurlock as it lay of the ground afterward. The bearded man instead opted for a backstab that killed quickly and cleanly compared to the previous decapitation.

His head still pounding and his body still aching and burning at the same time, Arnor kept conscious just long enough to see Tomas, Fluffy, and the two strangers rushing to him as he fell forward into the dirt.

_Special Thanks to my beta FalconHawk_


	4. Origin Final

**A/N I'm on a roll it feels like, so this chapter is extra long and completes Arnor's Origin Story! And thank you to everyone who gave and is still giving this story a chance.**

* * *

The first thing Arnor noticed as his consciousness came back to him was the aching of his body and the dull tune that seemed to come from nowhere. Shaking that off, he took stock of his surroundings. He was in his room with a only a pair of dirty trousers on for clothes. Several bandages were wrapped around him as he could feel small amounts of blood still seeping through the wound and dampening the cloth. Books, dirty clothes, and used poultices lay scattered around the room, and his bow and arrows lay at the side of the door showing the signs of battle and use. The memories of his little adventure flooded back to him suddenly, and with those memories the tune came again. It was weaker than before but it was still present in his mind. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back and quickly remember the glancing blow he took during the fight with the alpha. As he sat up in his bed he suddenly felt that burning sensation again, as well as that feeling of weakness that crept from inside him. As he sat mulling a bit, the door suddenly opened to reveal his father carrying a cup of water and a loaf of bread.

"Well, you're finally awake I see," Amroth said as he sat down in a nearby chair and set the food and water down on a wooden nightstand, "You had us all worried and praying for a second, your mother wouldn't leave the chantry and had to be dragged out by Ser Henric last night."

"Wait, what happened exactly?" Arnor asked rubbing his head in exhaustion. "The last thing I remember is strange warriors and eating dirt."

"Humph, then you didn't get to find out they were Grey Wardens before you passed out then?"

"What? Wardens, ahh!" Arnor suddenly felt a jolt of pain from his back and the burning got worse when he attempted to stand up quickly.

"Easy there son, you've been out for nearly a day and a half, you're probably still weak." He said as he handed Arnor the water

"A day and a half? What? Is Fluffy alright?" The junior Edain asked as the pain started to fade after drinking a bit.

"He's resting outside and he's fine," A new voice responded as its bearer walked into the room, " so am I, thanks for asking!"

"I knew you were okay Tomas." Arnor defended "If you weren't okay I would be dead because Kaitlyn would have killed me!"

"Tease me all you want, you're still the one wounded."

"That's fair, toss me a shirt would ya? I think I need some fresh air."

"Whoa there! The last time you tried jumping out you looked like you pulled something. Be more careful this time." Arnor's father warned

"Me? I'm always careful!" Arnor smiled in spite of his state of health

"But here you are pale and in bed, having to be nursed back to health again. You should thank Bella, I swear if I didn't know any better I'd say she was a spirit healer!" Tomas joked as he threw Arnor a light green shirt

"Anyway, did you get the money from the chanter?" Arnor asked, his voice muffled by the fabric as he struggled into the shirt.

"Yes, and here's your three sovereign share." Tomas replied as tossed Arnor three gold pieces.

"So the whole thing really was worth it after all?" Arnor winced when another bout of pain hit him

"I'm not sure Arnor," his father warned, "That Grey Warden, Duncan I think his name was, needs to talk to you two, it's important."

"He wants to talk to me? Me? Did he say anything else?"

"Its something you need to hear from him to believe son." Was all Amroth would say as his gaze became sorrowful

"Alright then, lets go. Tomas, you wanna come along?" Arnor asked, somehow knowing with terrible feeling what the news was.

"Sure, I've got nothing better to do."

"You two take care now, and Arnor say hello to your mother would you? She's probably still praying for you in the chantry."

"I'll make sure to give her my best."

Finding his boots on the edge of his bed, Arnor fastened them to his feet before rising up from his bed slowly and doing his best to ease his way towards the door of the house. Tomas followed and soon the two were outside on the Edain farmland that had been with the family seemingly forever. While on his way to the chantry Arnor decided to go see how Bella was doing after she helped in the process of patching him up once again. Tomas, not being one to refuse a chance to get a decent drink, did not object. So the two found themselves opening a creaky wooden door to the Green Dragon.

"Look who's come back from the Maker's side!" Bella announced as the two walked in the tavern and sat down at a table

"Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. Can you get us some cider? We have to be quick out of here, I have to meet someone." Arnor said in between shallow coughs

"Gee, not even a hello or anything, did the herbs I give you destroy your manners?" Doing her best to try and downplay the fact that Arnor looked terrible.

"Sorry, it looks like manners are rarer than dragons." Tomas pointed out "And manners from Arnor are rarer than griffons."

"Hey! Let me fantasize about the impossible once in awhile! Reality is unrealistic anyway." Arnor protested as Bella brought the mugs of cider

"Well with mages, monsters, and magisters who attack heaven I suppose anything is possible." Bella admitted

"See, you have to keep an open mind, they thought dragons were gone, but here we are living in the Dragon Age. Give it a couple of years maybe we'll see griffons and they'll name the next age the Griffon Age." Arnor thought aloud as he drank up the cider like he hadn't drunk in days

"Whoa there friend! Slow down or you'll drown yourself, I don't think even Bella could fix that!"

"Sorry I just feel, drained... and tired."

"You know, he's got a point there Arnor, I've had to patch you back up into shape how many times now?" Bella asked as she crossed her arms waiting for answer doing her best to stay cheerful for her friend's sake

"Five, six if you count the incident with the bees, but I had the situation well in hand!" Arnor insisted as a light hearted fire came back into his eyes

"If I recall correctly you were going "AHHH not the bees! Not the bees! All over my eyes!"

"Maybe that's so, but, thank you," Arnor finally said as struggled up out of his chair and looked Bella in the eye suddenly becoming a bit more serious, "Thank you very much, I appreciate you helping me you when I get into trouble."

"Well, you're welcome then," she said as she blushed a bit "You try and stay out of trouble from now on."

"I'll do my best, but so far my best doesn't seem to have been all that great." Arnor replied with a good natured smile

As Tomas saw the two talking he realized that if he didn't get Arnor out of here now he and Bella would be making awkward conversation until the Maker came back. "Um Arnor, don't you have to met with that Warden? I thought it was important, was I wrong?"

"Yeah, that's something I have do I guess," Arnor stuttered as he looked back at Tomas

"Hopefully you'll feel better soon and the color will come back into your face. You take care of yourself then." Bella said as Arnor and Tomas made their way to the door

"You too."

"How many times will I have to do this?" Tomas asked rhetorically as he once more dragged his friend out of the bar.

The two walked down the hill and past the golem statue till they came to the wood thatch building that was Redcliffe's chantry. It was not a grand building like the great cathedrals in Orlais or the church forts of Wessiphut and the Anderfels, but I was the center of spiritual life for the many villagers who called the fishing settlement home. It was also the place to go for a decent drink when Lloyd was out of ale and cider. Sister Margaret made great wine. The two opened the doors and found the warden who aided them in the forest waiting in front of the altar while his younger companion dozed in a nearby chair.

First though, the business of informing Eowyn Edain that her son was conscious was in order. Arnor nearly gave his mother a heart attack as he snuck up on her prayer at an altar. He was treated to a glomp of a hug and strong reprimand as to the going on that bounty hunt. It was then that she looked at her son with great sorrow and sadness, as she looked on the pale and somewhat sickly face of her son. She told him to speak to the Grey Warden, and that it was a matter of grave importance. The look in her eyes told Arnor all he needed to know about his condition and what exactly ailed him, but he kept hoping against hope that the Warden would not tell him what he expect to hear.

"Ah there you are, I was wondering when you would get out of your sickbed." The Warden, spoke "It's good to see you're up and walking again."

"Well, um thank you, I suppose. I'm sorry I didn't get the chance to thank you sooner." Arnor stammered, nervous in the presence of one his childhood legends

"You know, for getting us out of that mess." Tomas finished for him

"It was no trouble, as for proper introductions, I am Duncan, Warden Commander of Ferelden. You two showed considerable courage going to face that many darkspawn."

"You're too kind ser," Arnor said, looking at the floor with great interest. "We just went into that forest to look for bandits, we had no idea of the darkspawn there. Had we known we would've stayed well away."

"And yet you two handled yourselves well and killed several of the beasts, you even fought against a hurlock alpha and lived. That's something many warriors cannot boast of. Now I don't mean to be rude, but I need to speak with Arnor privately."

"That's fine, Arnor I'll see you outside." Tomas said as he left the premises.

It was the look from this veteran that gave all the confirmation Arnor needed. He might have been young when his uncle told him stories, but Arnor was a good listener and remembered the important details. When he first heard the cry of the spawn in the woods he knew that this was always a possibility. It was the ease of the transmission that made the blight sickness so deadly and what helped make the Blights the calamities they were, but Arnor never thought it would happen to him. He was supposed to inherit the farm, raise a family, and grow past his childish dreams of becoming a hero.

"I'm tainted aren't I? I'm dying or worse." Arnor blurted out quickly before Duncan could speak

"Yes, I'm sorry but the wound you received in combination with your exposure to darkspawn blood has made the taint manifest in you."

"Is that all? Is that all you wanted to speak to me about? To confirm my doom?" Arnor accused as the rage, shock, and denial of the situation crashed down upon him. He lashed out at the old man who had nothing to do with the fact Arnor had no future.

"No, no that's not it." Duncan replied with his voice still smooth and calm against the fear of the farmboy "I can offer you chance to escape, a slim chance at life, a hard life to be sure, but life nonetheless."

"What is it?" Arnor asked eager for some way to cure his condition.

"The only way to stop the corruption that festers in you is to undergo the Joining and become a Grey Warden." The Warden Commander said with great solemnity, "You will have to leave your life here behind you and dedicate yourself to fighting the darkspawn."

"You've already informed my family haven't you." The ranger muttered as he mulled over the irony of his fate. He had want to be a Warden all his life, but he had never imagined that it would be to save him from the taint. He could only wonder how his parents were feeling. First their daughter goes to become a Templar, and now their son must either die or become a Warden.

Duncan nodded as he continued "To save your life we must journey quickly to the Circle of Magi to gather the lyrium and mages necessary for the ritual. You should pack lightly and make any goodbyes swiftly. Meet me at the gate as soon as you can. Don't concern yourself too much. You have already proven yourself a capable fighter and woodsman, you will make a fine Warden." Duncan tried to reassure him

This did little to help Arnor's spirits as the young man simply walked out of the chantry in silence. The rain was falling hard as Arnor left the building and he found Tomas leaning against the wall of the building waiting for his friend's return. Tomas immediately saw the downcast expression on Arnor's face and demanded to know what the Warden had told him. The explanation Arnor gave his friend was brief and to the point: to live he had to leave behind everything and dedicate his life to the Order. He would have to leave today to have the best chance of living in time for the ritual which was supposed to save his life.

Desperately trying to cheer his soon to be leaving friend up, Tomas decided that the world was upside down and dragged Arnor into the Green Dragon. They entered the room soaking wet and trailing mud all over the floor as they sat down for what might very well be their last drink together. Bella came over with the mugs as Tomas explained the situation while Arnor took in every sip of the piss poor drinks he'd come to enjoy over the years. The idea that everything familiar to him would be ripped out from under him was unfathomable to Arnor, all because of one stupid adventure. All because he always wanted something more, and now that something more came in the worst way possible.

"You you really have to leave to stay alive, don't you?" Bella asked as she sat down next to Arnor while Tomas excused himself

"The taint will only get worse even if I could get the best healers from Tevinter to come here. If anybody knows about the darkspawn corruption it's the Wardens. He said I need to leave with him immediately to stop it from killing me or worse." Arnor said as he took a long swig of his drink

"It was always your dream to become a Warden," Bella laughed without joy "You would always tell me your uncle's stories and you would pretend to be the great hero who saved the world from the monsters."

"And now I'm going to live that dream for probably the worst reason possible."

"I would rather have you live and become a Warden than watch you stay here and waste away from the blight sickness. I think you feel that way to."

"But now I don't want to leave, I don't want to abandon my home, my parents, my friends, you! Not now! Not when my only choice is join or die!"

"I... I don't want you to die, you have to go!" Bella said as she held back tears as she looked at the sickly face in front of her

"It's not fair!" Arnor yelled as he slammed his fist on the table, "It's not fair..."

"Who says life is fair? Where is that written?" the waitress asked rhetorically as she pulled her friend into a close hug as he cried for a while before regaining his composure.

"You know Wardens are supposed to leave their old lives behind. I'm not sure I'll ever see you again."

"It doesn't have to be that way! You could write, or bring your Warden buddies over here when you're not saving the world."

"Maybe... Maybe."

"You'll be a great Warden I'm sure of it! You'll be the hero of great tales and songs that drunk people sing to visiting nobles!"

"Thanks, I guess I don't have much of a choice do I?" Arnor admitted as he paused for moment, "One more thing, I know this is a lot to ask of you, but can you take care of Fluffy? Tomas and him fight often and my parents are getting older no matter what they say. Besides, you guys will need someone look after you when I'm gone."

"I will, and we'll both be here when you get back. I'm sure he'll protect us from anything!" Bella said as she gave a sad smile that told of both sadness and hope.

"Thank you again, for everything. For the laughs, for the tears, for the aid, and for all the memories." Arnor responded as he gave his friend another hug, "I'm going to go back to my house to get some supplies before I leave, think you can ask Lloyd to left you off early to see me off?"

"I can do that."

"Then I'll see you there..." Arnor stuttered awkwardly

"I wouldn't miss it.." Bella responded as Arnor walked out the door and into the downpour outside.

As Arnor left the Green Dragon as lightning streaked across the sky. Thunder boomed as the young man made his way to his home as he opened the door and wordlessly looked at his parents sitting at the table. Nothing was said at the moment, what could? Arnor went into his room and changed into his traveling gear and cloak. He packed his bag with with a few books he always loved to read and a small change of clothes.

As he stepped out of the room he was greeted by his father, who held his sword and offered it to his son. While Arnor had used it before, it was always with the intention of returning it. This time as he fasted the steel blade and scabbard to his belt, he knew that this sword was his now.

Amroth spoke with an air of air of authority and power as he handed the blade to his heir. "You will make us proud my son. You will become more than I could ever dream of. I'm sure of it. Use this blade well to defend others and do the Edain name proud. We are no noble line, but we are still a name to take pride in. Do us, your sister, and yourself honor out there." He commanded as he smiled and tried to keep his composure in front of his child.

Arnor's mother was less guarded and sobbed as she held onto her son, as if she held him tight enough it would make the taint go away. All Arnor could to stop himself from crying as well as he held his mother was remembering that he should try to be brave for his family. This was so different than when Morwen left. When Morwen left to join the Templars it was a celebration of continuing a family tradition and fighting the good fight. There was laughter and song and happiness. Now as he left there was sorrow, denial, and regret as Arnor knew he had to leave before his sadness got the best of him. Fastening his quiver and longbow to his body he stepped back out into the rain slowly followed by his parents as he left to meet with Duncan towards his destiny.

It was at the bridge that crossed the river that Arnor got the last chance to say goodbye to the life he knew, Tomas, Bella, his parents, even Kaitlyn and her brother Bevin showed up to see the young man they had known since his childhood leave Redcliffe.

Tomas was the one who walked up to Arnor and tried to talk to him and say something first.

"I can't help but feel this is somehow my fault," Tomas admitted, "I know its not, I know for sure that's not the case, but I still feel guilty for not doing better and maybe saving you from the taint."

"You could not have done any better that day, and its my fault for suggesting the hunt anyway and bringing you into danger. Take care, and watch out for everybody will ya?" Arnor said as he tried to bring back spirit he had been known for

"I will do my best."

"That's all I can ask." Arnor confirmed as he patted him on the shoulder.

Arnor gazed at his parents, with whom words would never be enough and what words could be spoken were already said. The look on his father's face told him everything he needed to know: his father was proud of him, he would do great things, and he would always be his son. Bella stood next to Fluffy as the two of them watched in the rain looking at the ranger who had been their lifelong friend. Between Arnor and Bella maybe there was something more, in fact now he was almost certain of it. However, now he would have to leave all of that behind as he gave her a short kiss on the cheek, and then ran to meet the two Wardens.

As Arnor stood on the hill that overlooked Lake Calenhad and Redcliffe he took one last look at the only home he'd ever known. Wondering if he'd ever come back again Arnor stared off at the familiar sight before rejoining Duncan and Alistair on the path that lead to the Circle of Magi. The sun shone bright the last time he left, but as the ranger left behind the world he knew, the clouds and rain made the world seemed very grey indeed. Fluffy howled as his friend left that day, and only after it passed out from waiting for Arnor's return did Bella drag him out of the pouring rain that clouded that day.

"Let us go now, your home is now behind you, the world is ahead." Duncan said as they made their way onto the Imperial Highway towards the Circle.

* * *

The weather was not kind to the three travelers on the first day of the trip to the Circle. The rains poured as the ground below them was a blotchy mess of mud and worms. They traveled on the road as their journey took them beside the water of the lake. As each hour passed the taint seemed to fight him more and more. While the herbs and poultices helped, none of it could completely get rid of the thing that was slowly transforming him into a ghoul. His skin color grew more and more pale and it didn't take the word of Duncan to confirm that whatever needed to be done needed to be done soon.

As Duncan was a man of few words Arnor found himself talking to the other recruit: Alistair. Once he got past the bad jokes and dry humor he was regaled with Alistair's past life as a Templar-in-training. The man was eerily dodgy about his past and parentage, and when questioned about proceeded to make a bad joke that brought a small smile to Arnor's face. Since he seemed like a good enough person, and as someone who helped him stop moping he decided to let Alistair be. Still it stood to reason that the man could wash maybe once in an age, he stank like a bog! Even Fluffy after the rain didn't smell this bad!

It was on the second day a strange sight made itself known first by the smell emanating from the air. This was not simply garbage and refuse, but the unmistakable scent of rotting flesh. The second sign was the few carrion birds that flew above, already smelling the scent of a battle. The spot finally showed itself in the form of several darkspawn and Templar corpses. It seemed that a battle had been fought here between the two groups, and yet several of the darkspawn bodies showed evidence of death by magical means. A group of bloody footprints lead away from the battle, and as the party followed them a short distance from the battle they found a most curious slight. Against a large oak tree that turning orange with the seasons was a young elf woman. She was adored in the robes of a circle mage and her shoulder length brown hair was matted with what Arnor hopped was dirt. She bore a wound from the battle as evidenced by a tear in her robe, it looked like most of it had been healed with magic but it remained partly untreated.

"It looks like the Maker has a sense of humor after all," the elf said as she got up to her feet leaning on her staff, "I escape the tower, survive the darkspawn, and outlive the templars only to fall prey to bandits."

"What? We're not outlaws! We don't smell that bad do we?" Alistair asked looking at Arnor for support

"Well maybe you do..." Arnor conceded

"Well if you're not outlaws then what are you people." The mage demanded as she tried to intimidate the three with a spell that quickly petered out. "Damn darkspawn making me use all my lyrium potions.." She muttered underneath her breath

"We are Grey Wardens, on our way to the Circle when we found a battleground and tracks leading to you." Duncan responded ever blunt and to the point

"Then you must've seen that little incident over there, oh believe me I didn't kill any of those Templars! Despite the fact that they're a bunch self righteous prigs who..."

She didn't get to finish that statement as Arnor drew his sword and held it at her throat. "Finish that statement.." While he was not a Templar himself he still held the Order in high regard, especially after Morwen's departure.

The elf didn't bat an eye as she continued "Who keep mages locked up like animals!" Seemingly unfazed by the blade that could kill her at a moment's notice

"Put down your blade Arnor. I know you have family in the Order, but one insult is not worth the life of a person." Duncan commanded

Arnor sheathed his blade and continued to glare daggers at the mage, with some difficulty as a milky film was beginning to grow over his eyes.

"You appear to be wounded, do you require aid?" the Warden Commander asked eying the gash on the elf's arm

"I used a little magic to patch up most of it, but a few bandages would be nice." the Elf admitted

Duncan gestured to Arnor who begrugingly retrived a few stripps of cloth from his pack and helped bandage up the wound on her arm. Wincing from the pain the elf now noticed the sickly look on the grumpy man's face and the rest of his body. Despite the man's terrible attitude the mage felt that she should at least offer some aid to someone who had offered theirs.

Despite the mana in her being very low she offered "Do you need some healing?" she asked Arnor "You look terrible."

"Thank you, but this young man's aliment cannot be cured by healing magic." Duncan answered for his recruit "We should be on our.."

He was interrupted by the sudden sound of heavy plate boots stomping towards them as a figure emblazoned with the Sword of Mercy came running up to the group.

"Ha ha. They told me it was stupid, that told me I couldn't find an apostate over here but who's laughing now?" The Templar asked himself

Everyone but Duncan was completely flabbergasted by the man's attitude and demeanor and didn't say a word as he prattled on.

"And what's this, some people you've come to meet? People to help you disappear? Well you're too late, I found you! You thought you could escape the Circle, but you didn't count on the my vigilance and cunning!" The man said in rapid fire bursts that left Arnor's tainted body spinning

"Of all the Templars to catch me it had to be him..." The elf groaned as she slammed her head on the tree.

"Who is this guy? He seems quite... Enthusiastic?" Arnor asked as he clashed this image of a Templar with the image he grew up with

"His name's Carroll, idiot's been like that ever since we got that new shipment of lyrium, don't know why though."

"So what are you gonna try and do, run, fight, dance?" Carroll asked as he drew his sword which prompted Alistair to reach for his blades handel.

"As much as I loath that Maker forsaken Tower I'm not going to justify Greagoir's fears and kill you. I'll go back with you peacefully, I'm not going to give you more ammunition against the mages than I already have."

"Well, thats good.. No bloodshed no mess." The templar said as he then turned to the three mundanes "And what about you three? If you're not here to meet with her, what are you here for?"

"We're on our way to the Circle of Magi to drop off cookies and presents to all the good little Templars." Alistair said in such a deadpan that Arnor thought the Templar before them actually believed him.

"Our actual intent is to enlist the aid of the circle mages for the preparation of something for the Grey Wardens." Duncan informed as he crushed Carrolls hopes.

"Well, alright then," Carroll said in a disappointed voice "Maybe you could come along with me and Ms. Apostate back to the tower, there's safety in numbers after all."

"That would be acceptable," Duncan agreed

So it was that the odd group traveled along the road to the circle tower as the sun began its long descent over the the hills, while the elf among them grumbled almost the entire way.

The Circle Tower was by far the largest structure Arnor had ever seen. Easily taller than Redcliffe Castle, he wondered at the skill and labor that must have been put into building the mammoth tower. The full moon shining on the waters of Lake Calenhad gave the place an eerie pale color. not unlike the complexion on Arnor's face. At the docks they were greeted by the ferryman Kester who took them across the lake with little trouble. The look on the elf's face grew more and more sour the closer they got to the building, and Carroll kept his hand on his sword ready for the first sign of trouble. The combination of blight sickness and the rocking of the boat did little to help Arnor's situation as he vomited the stew Alistair had made for dinner.

The tower loomed larger than life in nearly every aspect as the doors of metal cringed and groaned as the templar guards standing watch welcomed them to Kinloch Hold. The man greeting them in the lobby was an imposing figure. Tall in templar plate armor he stood with an air of authority among these warriors with his age and experience showing in his walk and bearing. Immediately his glance shot to the mage who looked back at him with disdain.

"So you are back after only after two weeks on the run it seems, even without the aid of your phylactery. That was much easier than I thought." The knight commander said as he glared daggers at the would-be run away

"Can you at least give me credit for trying? The reason I'm back here is the darkspawn caught up to me before your Templars, and I didn't have the energy to run." The mage explained as she tried to put on a brave face

"Don't remind me... your actions cost me three good Templars to the darkspawn, and who knows how many people will suffer because you helped a blood mage escape!"

"Jowan was no blood mage, and he deserved the chance to live outside the confines of the Circle just as we all do!"

"Luthien Surana, what we do is for the protection of both you and everyone around you, and I'll see you sent to Aeonar for what you've done!"

"You wouldn't!" Luthien exclaimed as she had expected to simply be given back to the Circle "You need the permission of the First Enchanter to send a harrowed mage there!"

"Really?" Greagoir as he pulled out a scroll and unfolded it for the girl to see "This is Irving's seal is it not?"

Luthien read the piece of paper with wide eyes as it outlined its main points clearly: "Luthien Surana is a dangerous fugitive and upon capture is to immediately be sent to the mage's prison of the Aeonar. Signed First Enchanter Irving"

The Knight Commander gave the mage a smug look as the mage simply stared at the seal as she wondered if Irving ever really cared about her well being. Other mages had escaped before and none that she knew were simply shipped out to the north prision. Was helping her friend really so much of a crime that she was condemned by her teacher? Did all her accomplishments and passing the Harrowing in record time mean nothing?

"That may not be necessary Knight Commander." Duncan interrupted as he stepped between the two "I've seen the results of this mage's handiwork, she would prove more useful as a Grey Warden than a prisoner. The Order is in need of recruits, mages especially are now needed to fight the darkspawn."

"What? Absolutely not!" Greagoir declared waving his hands together for finality. " This woman must face justice for aiding a maleficarum! She should not be released to the Wardens!"

"The darkspawn represent a greater threat than any rogue mage knight commander. I must then invoke the Right of Conscription and remove Ms. Surana from your custody."

"Do I get a say in any of this?" Surana asked as she felt locked out of the conversation that was deciding her fate.

"If you'd like I'm sure we could ask Duncan to hand you back over to the Knight Commander." Arnor offered as he tried to maintain his facade of being okay

"No. I'd rather not.." Surana replied as she still went over Irving's decision to sentence her still weighed on her mind.

With Duncan invoking the ancient rights of the Wardens the conversation between him and the knight commander was over. The Templar leader stormed off furious that another rebellious mage had slipped between his figures. It was then a man in leather armor chose to reveal his presence and speak to Duncan. A figure with long hair and a humble stance, the man introduced himself as the senior Warden of Jader here at Duncan's request.

"I got your letter and have the supplies you requested," The man reported in a thick Orlaisian accent. "I have had the Circle mages preparing for some time, they are ready for you just as you asked."

"Thank you for accommodating me, this recruit must undergo the ritual soon if we are to have any chance of saving him. Don't worry, each of these recruits have proven themselves capable of fighting darkspawn, there's no need for them to supply their own vials." Duncan responded as he tried to assuage his comrade's discomfort for breaking Warden tradition.

"We live in strange times it seems, that recruits bypass the usual stages. I suppose you need me there as well to help oversee the Joining?"

"It would be most welcome my friend. It is good to see you again."

"And you, it's hard to believe that the thief off the streets has become Warden Commander." The Fereldan born chuckled at the memory

"No one is more surprised than me by that, but time is running short and the ritual must be held now."

"So it must be, if you would follow me to the Harrowing Chamber, the mages have allowed us use of the private area to conduct the Joining." The Warden said as he ushered the four up into the tower and through the commons.

Along the way Luthien caught the glances and whispers of the other mages and apprentices as she walked through the tower. Many glanced in fear of the lawless mage who helped a maleficarum, others in awe of a rebel who defied her Templar jailers. Most simply didn't know what to think of her, on one hand Luthien was the First Enchanter's top student, but she had always been known as a troublemaker who resented the constant watch of the Templars. It didn't matter to her though, she found a way to get out of here. Everyone knew that a mage who was a part of the Warden didn't have to worry about Templars or the Chantry's rules. She would be free, she would have the feeling that she hadn't felt in years. She could see the world again beyond the books and maps in the library. The Circle had let her down and boxed her in, now she was going to be outside the rules and restrictions. Soon they would all she what she was capable of.

Alistair walked the halls with an uneasy feeling brought on by memories of the Harrowing he had to supervise. He thought about how she must've feel often, the last thing she saw with her real eyes being faceless men in plate and a bowl of lyrium. That life behind a faceless helmet to be a jailor and hunter wasn't the life for him, he hadn't chosen it either. Come to think of it his entire life he'd been pushed in one direction or another. He wasn't given the choice to go to the Chantry, to become a Templar, or even this whole Grey Warden business. Duncan had gotten him out of the Chantry however, and he was going to make the best of it. He had to always try to make the best of the situation and laugh, besides if he didn't laugh he'd probably cry.

Every step became heavier and every breath seemed labored to Arnor as they walked through the ancient halls and up what seemed like a million stairs. "Who builds a structure like this?" he thought as multiple times he had to stop and take a breather. Much to the annoyance of his fellow Wardens. Many times Alistair offered to carry him, but Arnor's pride and stubbornness won out as he forced himself to climb and hobble. He had to survive, he had to stand on his own, he had to prove himself to himself if no one else. Go through whatever this ritual thing was that was supposed to cure him, and become something. He had been passed over as the child to become the next Edain Templar, perhaps the Maker ordained instead for another Edain Warden. "That was it," He had to become something, anything to make his father's pride in him worth it.

They finally reached the Harrowing chamber after what felt like an eternity walking up the stairs. Arnor swore if he ever had to walk up that many flights again he'd need a nap in the middle of it first. Luthien and Alistair on the other hand shivered slightly at their respective memoirs that stemmed from this place. It was now that the Orlesian Warden stood off to the side of a table upon which stood a single chalice that Duncan said held the source of the Warden's power and victory. A mixture of darkspawn and archdemon blood combined with lyrium the recruits were told. They were all called to submit themselves to the taint for the greater good. This procedure was potentially fatal, but it was necessary for the Wardens to sense the darkspawn and kill the Archdemon.

"We speak only a few words prior to the Joining, but these words have been spoken since the first." Duncan said as he gestured to his fellow Warden

The other Warden spoke clearly and crisp as he held out his sword as if he was part of an honor guard for a king "Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we will join you."

"Arnor step forward," Duncan said as he handed Arnor the chalice that would decide his fate. "From this moment on you are a Grey Warden."

The sip Arnor took from the cup would be remembered as one of the worst experiences of his life. More than the first experience with darkspawn blood, EVERYTHING felt like it was burning. The music grew shriller and higher as he saw flashes of a massive dragon and the abyss full of darkspawn which it called home. The world seemed empty for what had to have been the longest couple of seconds of his life as pain and fire seemed to course through his veins. The darkspawn blood that burned now was inside him along with Maker knows what. The taint in him before was slow and steady chalking away at his body, but this was instant burning and indescribable. Yet the feeling started to subside and the world seemed to clear after the few moments of intense pain. Arnor could now make out the faces of the others in the room, first the faces of the two Senior Wardens looking on him like they had seen this many times before. Then back to the faces of his fellow recruits plastered with looks of shock, confusion, fear, but also determination.

"It is done. Welcome." Was all Duncan said as he gestured Arnor to take a stand next to the other Warden.

Next Alistair stepped up to the plate as Duncan then inducted him formally into the Order. Arnor could only watch as the other recruit went through the same ordeal as he did. It was different seeing someone else go through that ordeal. Arnor wondered if his experience was unique in the amount of pain he suffered and the amount of time he seemed to be trapped. Although witnessing this he was unsure that this was the case. Now he knew, or at least he thought he knew why the Wardens were so few and so secretive. It was clear that not everyone Evidently the former Templar was made of better stuff than his jokes and joined Arnor who was still bewildered by his experience.

Lastly the elf mage approached and drank her share of the tainted mixture. Unlike the others Luthien seemed to go into shock as her body tried to reject the substance. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell onto the ground. Arnor tried to rush toward her and help her somehow, but was held back by Alistair who noticed Duncan going to check on the fallen mage. To the Warden Commander's surprise there was still a heartbeat in this young lady and to the amazement of the other recruits the elf got back up on her feet after a few minutes on the ground. Albeit very shaky and she had to lean on her staff for support.

The three were now Wardens, joined by Tainted Blood and a duty to protect the world from the Darkspawn menace. In the years to come they would meet others who would help them change everything, but today they took the remaining darkspawn blood and put them into vials so as to never forget their experience and honor others who came and fell before them. One day each would have a part to play in making the Dragon Age one worth remembering, but today they joined in the duty that could not be forsworn and pledged themselves forever to the Grey Wardens.

* * *

**A/N I know it feels like I'm just throwing cameos left and right but Carroll just felt right and Alistair said the mystery warden was apart of his Joining so why not? Anyway thanks for reading! If you can't guess who the other warden is shame on you! In the next chapters other origins will play out and the Battle of Ostagar will be fought! Stay tuned and leave reviews please!**

_Thank you to my Beta FalconHawk!_


	5. Recruiting Drive Part One

Bolded are Arnor's journal

A/N Thank you to all my readers but especially my reviewers and anyone who put this story on their alerts. Never be afraid to leave feedback!

**And so is the Golden City blackened**

**With every step you take in my hall**

**Marvel at perfection, for it is fleeting**

**You have brought sin to heaven**

**And doom upon the world**

**Canticle of Threnodies 8:13**

**If I was writing a story I would definitely have a better into than the something from the Chant of Light, but as it happens, every page in this thing has some line from the chant at the beginning. It's taking up valuable writing space! I'm sure the Maker and Andraste would understand if I needed more room to internalize my thoughts surely-**

"Arnor are you doodling in that book of your's again? We have to get moving!" A female voice rang out as the leather clad ranger was pulled out of his writing stupor and back into the real world.

Southern Ferelden was cold, seemingly always cold, and now Arnor realised just how little his cloak protected him as the wind blew hard and shook the leaves out of the tree he was sitting under. The familiar face of Luthien Surana looked down on him and his red book as she waited for her fellow Warden to get up and get moving.

"Come on, we have move quickly if we're going to make it anywhere to recruit anyone!" Luthien said as she knocked his head with her staff

"Hey! Ow... I can make to Highever faster than you with my eyes closed and my legs tied knife ears!" Arnor jibbed as he got off his feet as he nursed his head

"And I could make it to the Anderfels in half the time shem." She retorted back as the two Wardens continued on the road, ignoring the many darkspawn corpses they left in their wake.

It had been six months since Arnor Edain took the chalice that held so many secrets and power, and in that time it seemed like he had finally been forced to grow up. He was away from everything familiar and now had to mature among strangers. It wasn't so bad though, between fighting darkspawn and learning the unpleasant facts about Wardenhood, there were moments of enjoyment and fun. Mostly they involved the various eating and drinking contests the Wardens held. In his childhood Arnor's family usually had enough food to satisfy him, but after becoming a Warden he was unsure how he got by on so little! Arnor was always beat in the eating competitions by Alistair though. Maker's breath, the man would eat Ferelden into a famine if given half the chance. Even Luthien surprised him by the amount of alcohol she could consume, apparently the Circle Mages made more that just enchantments and runes in that tower of theirs.

In addition to that his skill in combat showed a marked improvement. Especially his swordsmanship as the fights against the raiding parties often devolved into close quarters combat. That was not to say that his archery aptitude was not still his main skill. Many times he was complimented on the many darkspawn that lay dead around a battlefield because of his arrows. It was a different environment here among a group of warriors, while it might not have been everything his uncle's tales or his dusty books made it out to be, it was still a tight knit group. While the first weeks were rough, and he clashed especially with Luthien, six months of living and fighting together sharing the same dangerous duty builds a bond between people. While it wasn't forged overnight, that's a story for another time.

There were moments, though that Arnor was unsure of himself and his value to the Wardens. Unlike the other recruits at his Joining he was not possessed of any special talent like magic or intense Templar training. While the six months of battle against the darkspawn had built up his experience and skill, he wondered at times if he would always be playing catch up to the others whose backgrounds practically screamed something special. Indeed, a week ago Alistair chose to share some need to know information with Arnor and Luthien. While the first reaction the two of them was to laugh, when they realized he was serious the conversation sobered up a bit. While they didn't talk about it much, Arnor now knew why Alistair kept his parentage a secret. It was hard to look at one of your friends the same way when you know they're royalty. All in all though, it was a good enough life in the Order, decent people, decent food, and maybe, just maybe, the chance to make something of himself.

For Luthien, becoming a Warden offered the chance to prove a mage's worth to the world. That they weren't animals to be locked up a tower. It felt freeing to be able to turn loose and unleash her power on monsters. She didn't have to hold back as she unleashed lighting, fire, and walking bombs upon her enemies. While she maintained basic knowledge of healing magic for emergencies, Luthien always excelled at the primal and spirit schools. While it took a lot out of her it was satisfying to see it in action as opposed to in a controlled environment. It still took her time to adjust to the nightmares though. As a mage she had always had a connection to the fade and with that connection came vivid and powerful dreams. Now her dreams of darkspawn and archdemons gave her no rest, but the others reactions to it were almost as bad and it made her feel better that she wasn't alone in her experience.

The feeling among the Wardens was different than with the Circle, in the tower it was among teachers and classmates, maybe the occasional real friend like Jowan. With the Order it was comrades in arms, they all shared the duty of fighting the never ending battle with the darkspawn. While all of them knew that eventually the war would consume their lives not matter what, everyone there seemed dedicated fully to this cause. Luthien felt she could do no less than them, she had more to prove as well. While no one actually said anything, the fact that she was an elf and a mage did raise some eyebrows. Still, the other two recruits weren't so bad, while Alistair was a former Templar and her first meeting with Arnor had him pointing a sword at her, they were decent enough people for shems once they had gotten used to her. Although their humor grated at times, Luthien couldn't help but play along, especially when it got on an older Warden's nerves.

Despite the minor suspiciousness, the Wardens had given her a home and a chance to use her talents to the fullest. It had also given her a chance to make her mark on the world. Not all mages got that chance, and there was no way she would squander this opportunity. To the rest of the world she was also a different person from the girl in the alienage or prisoner of the tower, no longer was she just an elf to be looked down upon or a mage to be feared. Now she was a Grey Warden that commanded respect and authority. While the prejudices of the shemlen, Templars, and everyday folk would never truly go away, now there was something to fall back on and hold above her status as both a mage and an elf. To Luthien that was worth the sacrifice that being a Warden entailed, she would rather spend a shorter time free than a longer time locked up.

The Wardens were assigned a twofold task, first to scout the south lands and confirm the growing darkspawn presence, and second, to bring in new blood for the thinly stretched Ferelden Wardens. What the two had seen near the Korcari Wilds proved the suspicions of the Senior Wardens and brought with it a terrible realization. A horde was amassing in the south, far too large to be a raid. While no one had seen an archdemon, the darkspawn only assembled in these numbers for one thing. A Blight, and all the terror and suffering that brings with it. After sending a message to the compound in Denerim the two hurried quickly to their next destination: Highever, home of the Couslands and the place Duncan referred them to for warriors that would make for excellent recruits.

**This city reeks of fish. I know it's on the coast and everything, but damn, doesnt anything here not smell like the sea? Luthien doesn't seem to mind surprisingly. Despite complaining about the smell of almost every other animal. Horses and bears aren't that bad are they? I've been to Denerim and its a bigger city but this place just seems more lively. Maybe it's the people, maybe it's the fish smell messing with minds like blood magic. I should probably put this away now seeing as how I'm meeting an important noble. How am I supposed to prepare for this? They don't teach etidqutoo or something or other in the Wardens. Why couldn't someone like Duncan have done this instead?**

* * *

Danson Cousland was a heavy heavy sleeper. His brother Fergus used to joke that he would oversleep a great battle one day and miss all the fun. Today as he woke up he was informed by an Elven servant to dress in his finer clothes as his father had summoned him and had company over. The brown haired man towered over most others and his bearing, stance, and demeanor held all the makings of a great captain of men. Indeed Danson was the champion of Highever, having been the first person to rush into any problem with his sword and shield to defend his people. This won him the affection of his subjects, and a reputation as somewhat reckless. Stretching his arms and legs a bit before stepping out of his room, the noble's son was blissfully unaware of the tragedy that would befall him and his family.

He stepped into the main hall of the castle as saw his father the Teryn talking with the most big nosed creature ever. How a reasonable person such as Bryce Cousland and a unpersonable man like Rendon Howe became friends was a mystery for the ages. Yet the two talked and joked like the old war buddies they were. The big nosed man was the bane of nearly everyone else around him though, and from what Danson was told Howe's Arling of Amaranthine was a den of vice and corruption. He pitied Nathaniel that he would have to inherit that mess eventually.

He walked into the main hall where his father and Arl Howe were discussing plans for their joint moment to the south to join the kings army.

"There you are Pup! You're here just in time."

"Well if it isn't the boy who used to splash the guards with moat water!" Howe laughed as he looked upon the noble "And now the size of a mountain, you look like you could take on a High Dragon before breakfast!"

"You are too kind your lordship." Danson said as he smiled and bowed in acordance with the manners he was taught instead of genuine like for the man.

"Pup I brought you for a reason, while me and your brother join the king's army I'm leaving you in charge of Highever."

"Then I'm not going into battle with you.." Danson mumbled, knowing this was probably going to be the case but still hopping he would be brought along anyway.

"I know how much you excel at armed combat, but I need someone I can trust to take care of Highever while I'm gone. This will be good practice for you, you may one day have lands to call your own and need to know how to manage them effectively."

"Be that as it may, it's still a letdown to not join the fight."

"Don't worry boy, I'm sure you'll have quite the time here being a ruler while your father and I are freezing in the south lands."

"There are also some people here you might be interested in meeting. Guard! Please show Arnor and Luthien in.

Danson then saw the sight of two very strange individuals. One was human and dark haired with the light beginnings of beard showing on his face. His leather armor and green cloak showed the signs of lots of wear and dirt, mud, and dirt were caked everywhere. A worn long bow and quiver were slung across his back and at his side sat a sword with very little decoration aside from a silver star imprinted on the pommel. Obviously this was a warrior who had seen several battles, most of them in the wilderness. His eyes were also wide as dinner plates, evidently still trying to get used to visiting nobility.

Next to him was an elf with brown hair and robes, carrying a wooden staff that marked her as a mage. She possessed a fair face and a wild look about her eyes that probably was a side effect of being free of the tower. The robes showed signs of wear and battle, stitched back together in many places it was starting to lose the blue color it once had, slowly becoming a pale grey. Stains of mud and blood were splotched on the cloth as it was clear that even a mage had to get down and dirty fighting the spawn.

The Teryn explained that the two were members of the Grey Wardens here to look for potential candidates to join their order.

"Um... Thank you for having us Teryn Cousland," The human began awkwardly as he bowed slightly and almost tripped himself "You'll, you'll, forgive me if my, I'm to used to- are um..."

"Let me handle this.. Thank the Maker they at least teach some things at the Circle." The elf muttered to her companion

"That you for reciving us your lordship, it is an honor to be guests here." Luthien responded formally as Arnor breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't have to do the talking.

"It's strange times when the manners of an elf and a mage are so refined." Arl Howe noted as he analyzed the two fighters.

"What did you say?" Luthien asked, practically spinning on her heels to glare at the noble

"I meant no disrespect m'lady I simply meant to.."

"What? What did you mean to imply?"

Before Luthien went off Arnor decided to speak up and move the conversation elsewhere.

"Ah, you must be the Danson Cousland I've heard about! Your knight Ser Gilmore mentioned you after I dueled him. If you're as good as he says you are you'd make a fine spawn slayer!"

"That is the worst line you have ever used." Luthien remarked, distracted from her brief fury with the big nosed Arl.

"What can I say? I try harder than Alistair!"

"That's not saying much." The elf said chuckling, slightly remembering where she was and who she was dealing with and calming significantly.

Suffice to say this was not what Danson expected out of two members of the Grey Wardens. Brother Aldous' tales spoke of mighty dignified warriors who commanded respect and authority. While he had be told not to judge people entirely on first impressions, it was hard to reconcile the two images.

"If we're on the topic of whether or not my youngest goes with the Wardens the answer is no. I don't want to risk both my heirs while my grandson is yet a child, and also I don't know if I want to see this family pulled away from each other so suddenly."

That seemed to strike a cord in the human who suddenly dropped the issue of recruitment and simply stared at the floor while his companion did her best to ignore the Arl right next to her.

"While the two of them might not be what you expect from the Wardens. I still expect them to be treated with the respect deserved by members of their order." The Teyrn reminded his son

"I'll do my best to accommodate them then."

"That's a good lad. In the meantime, inform Fergus he's to lead the main force to Ostagar ahead of us. The king is going to need as many soldiers as he can get. We'll talk more later."

Leaving his father to discuss with the Arl and the Wardens Danson moved to acquicest his father's request. While he was a bit disappointed to not be included in the army to fight, he took pride in the fact that his father trusted him with the Ternyir in his absence. He also wished he could have taken some time to properly meet the Wardens who had come for recruits, but they politely declined a conversation as they had businesses to discuss with the two senior nobles. Well, the elf politely declined, the ranger stumbled on his words and then took great interest in the furniture. Walking through the corridors of castle Cousland he was waylaid by a ball of slobber and fur.

"Hume! Get off! Help!"

Although a pure Mabari War Hound, Hume was the most affectionate and playful dog in the kingdom. At least it seemed that way with the way he got along with Oren and liked to follow Danson around like he was still a puppy. He was still a Mabari though, and many a bandit and law breaker met their end at his paws. Right now he was in the process of covering his master with as much drool as possible before Ser Rodrick Gilmore pried the dog off him.

"There you are m'lord," The knight said as he held Hume long enough for Danson to get back on his feet. "I had to chase your hound out the larder earlier, he was giving Nan a fit rummaging through the food stocks."

"Bah, he's a good boy!" Danson brushed off the words as he kneeled down and patted his hound's head "And Nan can deal with him, she has a soft spot for him, I've seen her give him steak and pork bones on the side."

"Be that as it may, it was quite a performance watching Nan scold a warhound. Although he gave her that look of innocence and even she couldn't stay mad at him."

"No one can stay mad at him, it's a talent I wish I had."

"Don't we all." Ser Gilmore agreed as he imagined all the moments past that would have been useful.

"Rarrf!" Hume agreed as he held his head high as if to say "You know I've got it."

"See what you've done, you've given my hound a superiority complex!"

"Apparently, but I shouldn't be standing around too long, I still have to organize what little guards we're going to have left after main force leaves."

"You're not going with my father?" Danson asked as he stood up from petting Hume

"No, I've been chosen to help you look after the token force that's remaining here. Maybe though, if I impressed that Warden enough, I could go with them after after all."

"You met the Wardens?" Danson asked intrigued at this opportunity to learn more about these guests

"I dueled with the human one actually, he saw me practicing in the barracks and offered to be an opponent that actually struck back. He beat me after a few rounds. I'm not sure if that left a good impression or not." The knight wondered as he shrugged his shoulders

"I wish I was going to fight the darkspawn, not that this place isn't nice, there just isn't that much excitement here."

"Yes, I think fear of your blade has driven all the bandits back into their caves and you to complete boredom!"

"That it has!" Danson laughed as he remembered the many times he dragged the warrior off on an excursion or other to find something to fight. "I shouldn't keep you talking though, it sounds like you've work to do."

"Alright then. Good day m'lord."

"And you Ser Gilmore."

After saying goodbye to Ser Gilmore and a short encounter with Lady Landra and her entourage, Danson continued onto Fergus's room to see him conversing with his wife and son.

"Will you come home soon papa? You promised you would teach me to ride a horse like a real knight! You'll come back soon right?" Little Oren, the joy of castle Cousland asked his father

"Of course I will my boy. I'll be back before you know it and soon you'll be riding and galloping on horseback better than any chevalier. All the darkspawn and enemies of Ferelden will tremble before the might of Ser Oren of Highever!"

"Yeah! I'll be the champion just like uncle!"

"You've got a ways to go before you're at that level kid." Danson said as he strolled into the room "First we have to teach you the swordsmanship, the use of armor..."

"Would you two stop encouraging the boy?" Orianna asked "I hardly think it's best to fill his head with such things at this age."

"How to woo the ladies..." Danson continued as if he hadn't heard her "and once you've wooed them.."

He was quickly forced to silence himself as a slap from Fergus' wife delivered surprising amounts of pain and no small amount of amusement to Fergus himself.

"Why are we slapping uncle?" Oren asked innocently "Did he say something bad?"

"Your mother apparently thinks so," Fergus replied "Now I know you didn't just come he to corrupt my son and be brutalized by my wife so what's going on?"

"Father wants you to go to Ostagar with the main force ahead of him." Danson responded still nursing his face and pride "Andraste, you married a firebrand didn't you big brother!"

"Don't I know it!" Fergus laughed as he kissed his wife on the cheek. "You'll take care of yourself and of Oren won't you love?"

"I will do my best to make sure your brother doesn't turn our son into a solider overnight." The Antivan woman responded smiling sweetly.

"I'd better get moving soon then, someone has to show those Bannorn troops how how the men of Highever fight!"

"Did you plan to just whisk yourself away before saying goodbye?" Spoke of the voice of Bryce Cousland as he and his wife entered the room."I would hope that I raised to be you better than that."

"It seems the boy has your manners, running off to fight quick as the wind and leaving his wife waiting for his return." Eleanor observed

"That was one time, and anyway I came back no worse for wear aside from a few scratches."

"That one time lasted several years I recall. I can only hope our son will come back sooner."

"Don't worry, Fergus will be fine. It's Oren you should be worried about! With his father and grandfather gone he'll ask me to teach him to use weapons!"

"Maker preserve us..." Oriana exasperated

"You'll be good boy for uncle won't you Oren?" Fergus asked his son who nodded vigorously

"I'll be a good boy, as long as uncle teaches me to use a sword!"

"No sword training! And no bows, no arrows, no daggers, no poisons, no maces, no spears, and no bombs! Understand?" Oriana interrupted sternly before Danson could accept Oren as his pupil.

"Aw... I never get to do anything!"

"Don't worry..." Danson whispered to his nephew "She didn't say I could teach you to use a crossbow!"

"I heard that!"

After some more small talk and goodbyes. Danson was instructed to turn in early as he would have a busy day tomorrow managing the castle for the first time. Flopping down on his bed as Hume curled up below, he drifted off to sleep in his bed, for the last time.

As the evening turned to night, and the torches were lit and most asleep, treachery was afoot that would be the catalyst for the creation of a hero.

A servant ran into Danson's room, panicked and haggard as he began yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Help! My lord help! They're everywhere! The castle is under.." He never got to finish that statement as an arrow sank into him.

Without waiting for his master to fully awaken Hume rushed out into the hallway and tore the offending archer and his compatriot to shreds. Seeing that a battle was upon him Danson hurriedly tried to wake up and stumbled out of bed. He put on his chain mail and retrieved his sword and shield still half asleep as Hume took care of his two would be assassins. Looking at the emblems on the solider Danson knew what had happened. Howe's soldiers weren't delayed by accident or chance, it was betrayal! Anger and confusion swirled inside his mind as he failed to notice his mother coming towards him with armor and weapon ready. As the surprise of battle sank in they both decided to try and make sure Fergus's wife and son were safe. To their horror, two corpses lay where Oren and Orianna should have been. Their bodies hacked and mangled by blade and arrow, it horrifyingly clear that they had been conscious and tortured before death.

"No.. My little Oren!" The Teryna cried "What manner of fiend slaughters innocents?"

Danson could only stand in silence as he looked upon the corpses of his sister-in-law and nephew. Rage, sorrow, confusion, all of it boiled inside him as the blood running across the floor and the glassy eyes and bloody bodies burned themselves into his memory.

"Why would anyone do such a thing?" The Teryna asked, she didn't get an answer as her son had already left the room

Red mist mixed with the tears that seemed to fill Danson's eyes as he rushed into the next hallway screaming. The four soldiers waiting there him were totally unprepared for the man's ferocity and fell like leaves in the fall. The several men who tried to avenge their fallen comrades met the same fate. Body after body piled up as more and more troops rushed him, each kill brought him a grim sense of satisfaction but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. As the last of his attackers lay at his feet his mother Hume finally caught up to him and could only stare at the corpses piled around him.

They fought their way to the Cousland Treasury, cutting down warhounds and soldiers who were trying to kill everyone in the castle. Danson vered in between screams of rage and tranquil fury, in either case the men who faced him in battle were soundly dispatched. They were joined by a few guards who managed to survive the initial slaughter. Charging in with a war cry that rallied the Cousland soldiers, Danson took out the anger he felt on those poor sods who never stood a chance.

_Slice, bash, thrust_. Soldier after soldier fell as wood and metal became implements of destruction in the noble's hand. _Stab, chop, swing._ Any who tried to run away from the killing machine were either shot by arrow or run down and mauled by a Marbari. _Slice, thrust, decapitate_. Eventually they'd reached the vault, from which Danson took the grey iron sword and shield which had served his family for generations. On any other occasion the moment of hold this weapon would be accompanied by feelings of pride and happiness. Instead they were taken up in a fight to survive as man made the foolish mistake of challenging the man. _Cut, smash, eviscerate._

_Betrayal, murder, vengeance!_

The Cousland family blade and shield gleamed in the fires of the burning castle, even covered in blood as they were. Along the way they discovered several corpses of Howe men who were killed by magic and grey feathered arrows, evidently the visiting Wardens yet lived.

They managed to reach the main hall where Ser Gilmore and a few guards were holding back the gate. Ser Gilmore told them that the Teryn had struggled his way to the servants exit beforehand. Rodrick offered to hold the gate to allow for their escape. Despite Danson's protests, he stubbornly refused to go with them reasoning that unless he held the line here they would not make it. Wishing his guardian and friend well before seeing him for the last time, Danson, his mother, and his dog continued on through the castle towards the servant's exit.

The group ran into the larder to find the elf Warden attempting heal the Teryn who lay bleeding on the ground.

"Danson! Eleanor! You're here... Thank goodness."

"Bryce!" Eleanor cried as she and her son ran to the side of the injured man.

"Careful love," Bryce said as he grit his teeth from the pain "This girl's magic is the only thing keeping me from succumbing to these wounds."

"I've done all I can for him, but I'm no spirit healer I don't think he'll.."

"Nonsense!" the Teryna proclaimed "We'll get you out of here Bryce, find more healing magic."

"What kind of mage are you? Why can't you heal him?" Danson yelled at the elf who glared back the Cousland as she replied

"Creation spells aren't my forte and your father's lost too much blood! I may be a mage but that doesn't mean I can cure everything!"

The two were arguing the other Warden entered the room with a bang. Covered in the blood of his would be assailants, He quickly slammed the door behind him in a panicked frenzy holding his sword tightly.

"Shit! Shit! Shit! Luthien quick, let's get out of here! We have to.." He began to exclaimed as he turned his head and barely found the time to parry the grey iron blade aimed to take his head off. "Hey, I'm not your enemy! Apparently your father's buddy Howe decided this was the best time to start a massacre!"

"I got that alright," Danson said with venom in his voice and his weapon still at the ready. "But how do I know that you're not a part of this?"

"Look at me! I'm covered in blood, my comrade is trying to heal your father, and I'm not with a company of soldiers!"

"My father's best friend just ordered the deaths of my family, and you're asking me to trust a complete stranger?"

The two men glared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Bryce spoke up.

"Danson stop.. He helped me get here... Put down your sword."

Danson looked back and forth between his father and the Warden in front of him before sheathing his blade. Arnor then tucked his blade back in his scabbard and turned to speak to the Teyrn.

"Now that your.. Back.."

"My lord, the castle is surrounded, I hope to Andraste that Howe's men haven't discovered this exit, because if they have none of us are getting out here alive."

"The servant's passage is secret," the Teyrna explained "There should be no way that bastard knows of it!"

"Then maybe we can get you and your mother out of here to Ostagar." Luthien offered Danson "I'm sorry but there's just no way we can move your father."

"Then we stay here and fight!" Danson proclaimed as he got up and tried to run out the door before Arnor stopped him

"Are you crazy!? Howe's brought his whole army here! You may be good but you'll fall eventually. If you want justice, vengeance, or whatever you have to get out of here and make sure someone knows the truth!" He reasoned still standing in the man of the taller man

"Howe thinks he can use the chaos and confusion of the Blight to mask his treachery, but he won't succeed. The king will.." Bryce tried to say before the pain became too much.

"The king can't do anything if he isn't told by someone who isn't one of Howe's hirelings. We have to get out of here!" Arnor protested

"If you want to abandon us and flee then fine! I won't run while a traitor takes over my home!"

"Darling stop! You can't throw your life away like this!"

"So we fly like cowards while the castle is burning?"

"Your men aren't here jackass!" Luthien spat trying to make him see reason. "Howe's are! Once they breach the gate everyone in here will be slaughtered! If you want to stay your welcome to death, but the duty of a Warden doesn't include throwing one's life away in a hopeless cause!"

"Your ladyship, are you coming with us?" Arnor asked realizing that trying to convince Danson to leave was near impossible "Someone should be there to tell the king and your eldest."

"Thank you, but my place is with my husband, I'll stand at his side until the Maker comes back. Till death and beyond."

"If you're staying, then I'm staying." Her son reaffirmed.

"No darling," Eleanor said as tears flowed down her face. "You have to go. You have to reach Fergus and you have bring justice to Howe. You can't do that lying dead in the larder defending us."

"But.."

"There is so much you could do with your life... I won't see you waste it here."

"You're asking me to leave you to die." The noble said as he looked into watery eyes.

"No. I'm asking you to live."

Waiting a moment before speaking Arnor turned and looked at Danson as the sound of wood straining against a battering ram could be heard.

"Whatever your decision is, you have to hurry because the gates aren't gonna hold forever!"

For a moment in time the noble son felt everything stop and the weight of the situation crash down on him. The situation was hopeless if he tried to stay. His home was full of enemy troops, his father dying right in front of him, and his only hope for escape lay in abandoning his parents to their fate. How was he supposed to both protect his family and honor his mother's request?

"My son... please... you need to survive... if something has happened to Fergus you'll be the last Cousland. Don't let our family die with you... I will always... always be proud of you pup... you and your brother both..." his father gasped as he struggled to breath let alone speak

The tears flowed freely as Danson struggled to make the words form in his mouth "Please! I can't lose you both! You can't ask me to leave!"

"We can and we will darling. We lead our lives, now it's your turn."

"Can't you come with us?" he begged

"I'll only slow you down, you won't have much chance to escape with three people let alone four. Like I said before, my place is here."

"But.. So is mine..."

"No it isn't." The Teyrna responded with a sad smile "You were never completely content with the life of noble, you were always the warrior and you always yearned for the world beyond the game of politics. This castle may have been your home but it doesn't have to be your grave. Go to Ostagar and find Fergus, let him know how proud we are of him and of you.."

"You.. I...love you both, so much..."

"Then live darling." The noblewoman said as she brushed a few strands of Danson's ragged hair out of the way of his eyes. "Live well my son, and live gloriously."

"Always... Remember your duty... And that you are a Cousland!" His father added as he made the difficult gesture of holding out his hand for Danson to shake.

Taking his father's trembling, bloody hand into his own Danson could only respond with silence amidst the screams and sound of clashing weapons.

A loud crash could be heard as the sounds of battle resumed giving clear notice the gate had been breached and Howe's men flooded in en masse.

"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news but we have to go now!" Arnor yelled

Luthien put her hand on Danson's shoulder as she tried to urge the young man to his feet.

No more words were exchanged between the three Couslands as both the parents said more in their eyes than could ever be expressed in words. Pride, love, hope, joy, and sadness in those orbs of color. Eyes that he would never see again. After meeting his parent's gaze's one last time Danson got up to his feet and followed the two Wardens out the servant's exit.

As her child left the room, and her husband lay on the ground, Eleanor Cousland took a deep breath and holding her husband's hand prayed a silent prayer for her sons. After finishing her silent blessing, the Fereldan warrior woman got up to her feet and knocked an arrow as the sound of footsteps rapidly approached her location.

As he and the Wardens fled the slaughter behind them, Danson caught one last glimpse of his home. Flames soared high in the air as he thought he could still hear the screams of those still left in the castle. He clenched the leather handle of his family sword as he let out a cry of suffering that pierced the night. The sound seemed to echo through the coastlands his family had stewarded, and for years to come people would tell stories, some true some false, of where they were and what they were doing when they heard that sound of ultimate suffering. As his old life burned before him, he made himself a promise. He would return, and he would see Howe dead for what he had done. No force of magic or men would stop him, he would not suffer that traitor to live. Even if he had to storm Fort Drakon to kill that scum, he would find him and end him.

* * *

He was sick, very sick. Sick with something none of the ancient lore of his people could cure. "Why, how could I have been so foolish?" He asked himself. Despite the whole thing being Tamlen's fault, the Dalish hunter could not help but feel responsible. "I should have been more careful, I should have told the Keeper." But no, confident in their own abilities he and Tamlen rushed into an ancient ruin and disturbed something which now caused him to be in camp in the cold south lands surrounded by shemlen. Although as the weakness and pain of the taint began to resurface, the hunter decided he should at least be grateful that Duncan had offered him a chance for life at all.

Once upon a time, he was the lead hunter, one of the most respected in the clan. A crack shot with a bow and a master of his surroundings. The wilds were his kingdom and her forests and plains offered freedom and the chance to live apart from the oppressive humans and their cities. He was among people he considered family and nothing would break them apart. All of it shattered by a mirror and a little curiosity. Now he was alone, a stranger in a strange land. With the last moments of his clan being an amulet, his bow and daggers, and his armor which was parting gift from Master Fingolfin.

The campsite was a miserable place. The Shem priests lifting their chant in freedom while his people had to worship their gods in secret. Elves puttered about as servants without dignity or respect for themselves, choosing to live among the people who had twice taken their homeland from them. The stares of the soldiers and of their servants didn't bother him that much, after all most people had only heard rumors about his people. It was the whispering that he knew was about him that got on his nerves. Occasionally as his eyes wandered he would catch two shems or flat ears staring at him and mumbling to each other in hushed tones.

Never in his life did he think he would find himself in the camp of a shemlen army, but here he was, having just arrived and waiting for other recruits to join the wardens along with him. Duncan had told him that there were three other recruits already waiting at the camp during their trip to Ostagar. He had also told him they were still expecting other Wardens to bring more candidates to bring into the fold. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to join the Wardens willingly. He was only here because Duncan offered a cure for his condition and he hoped that after the Blight was dealt with he could return to his clan or maybe look for Tamlen.

After all, if anything that shemlen king said was true then the battles had been going well for this army. Who's to say that the whole Blight wouldn't be ended here before it truly began?

As he sat in camp waiting for Duncan to reveal more about the ritual that was supposed to save him, the Dalish elf saw a group of three people walking towards the warden tents. Two humans and a flat ear by the looks of them, with the flat ear being a mage of all things if the staff and the robes were any indication. Solemn and silent they were, but the largest of the shems, brown haired and tall, seemed to radiate rage and sorrow barely kept in check. The elf among them quickly dragged the much large human off to the infirmary area, as he was clearly wounded with several cuts and arrows piercing the heavy chainmail he wore.

The other human continued towards the Warden camp and then took one look at him. The shem's eyes immediately widened as he looked at the Dalish's face, no doubt the blood writing was surprising. As the painted elf prepared to speak proudly about the Vallaslin the cloaked human brought up a subject he was not immediately prepared for.

"Your tainted aren't you." More of a statement than a question in a low voice

"Yes.." the elf responded slightly surprised how easy it was for this man to guess his condition. "Your commander offered me a cure in exchange for joining the Wardens."

"Huh..." The human shrugged "He does that, speaking of Duncan where is he? I need to speak with him."

"The last I saw of him he was by the bonfire near the center of the camp."

"Thank you," The shem said as he started walking in the bonfire's direction before turning his back to speak. "I don't think I heard your name."

"Turgon, Turgon Mahariel, hunter of Clan Sabrae."

* * *

A/N And so we introduce two more Origins into the mix. You all know how the battle of Ostagar unfolds, but lets seen if everything you know about the Kocari Wilds remains valid. Next time in _From Humble Beginnings. _


	6. Recruiting Drive Part Two

It's never fun to be the bearer of bad news, major or minor. This bad news definitely belonged to the former. With a Blight on the horizon people still stabbed each other in the back, and from what little he knew of Ferelden politics the Couslands had been well liked and Howe and the Teryn old friends. But the old noble was dead, killed in a cowardly strike that left so many in graves. While he had seen death and destruction during his time in the field it was still hard to look upon wanton slaughter. The first time he saw mutilated corpses he lost his lunch, now he simply internalized those feelings. Was it a sign of callousness that such things no longer affected him as they once did? How much had six months changed the farm boy that left Redcliffe? The time for philosophical musings was gone though as Arnor walked up to the bonfire to report to his superior.

Despite not being exceptionally tall or imposing, Duncan could be an intimidating figure. Weathered eyes and well worn armor spoke of countless incidents of danger in his line of work. Arnor was a bit scared and in awe of him at the same time. He was the authority, the boss, the leader, and without a doubt a man of a colorful background. He also seemed to know people practically all over Ferelden. Wherever the Wardens went on missions it seemed that someone important knew him. Through all the skirmishes with the darkspawn and foolhardy bandits on the road Duncan had a near mystical ability to inspire and organize his men. Through the inevitable deaths and clashes among the Wardens he was the pillar of order and calm. It seemed like he had been everywhere, knew everyone, and could lead anyone. If anybody stood a chance of ending this Blight, it was him.

The half Rivaini man was currently speaking with an officer of the king's army judging by his uniform.

"I'm certain there is another explanation." Duncan said to the soldier who was crossing his arms indignantly.

"No there's not, my man caught her with her hand in his pocket."

"Be careful, you are talking about a Grey Warden I would trust her word over your man. In any event I vouch for the good conduct of all the Wardens here, are we clear?"

"Yes, Warden." The soldier relented as he stormed off in a huff bumping into Arnor.

"Your back a bit earlier than I expected," Duncan said as he turned to look at his subordinate. "Although the look in your eyes and the blood on your armor says that you didn't exactly leave by choice."

"Teyrn Cousland is, dead ser... While we were at the castle, Arl Howe's men stormed the place and killed everyone in sight. Luthien and I barely escaped with the Teyrn's younger son. It was, horrible.." the Junior Warden said as he tried to forget the slaughter he witnessed.

"You could not have foreseen this turn of events and it is fortunate that you managed to survive. While we can sense , the treachery of other men and women can strike from anywhere." Duncan said he stroked his beard in thought. "The king must be informed of this right away, as should the eldest son of the Couslands. It is a shame though you did not have time to find a recruit."

"I was thinking about something though... We were supposed to bring back someone, but circumstance forced us to leave before a decision could be made. Perhaps the Maker made it for us, the youngest son I mentioned earlier, he cut his way through Howe's men to reach us on the other side of the castle!"

"That certainly shows skill, but I'm not sure if he would be entirely stable after that ordeal. He just lost his family and his home to someone his father trusted with his life."

"There's truth in that." Arnor admitted as his eyes began to wander before he saw a face he thought or rathered he'd hoped was dead. "What is _he_ doing here?"

"I see you've noticed Daveth's presence. I know of his history with you, but Grey Wardens are needed more than ever during a Blight. I'm asking you to trust my judgment in these matters, and put aside your feelings for now."

"You know what happened!" Arnor practically yelled "You know how he left he and Tomas to the mercy of the darkspawn! How could you consider letting him join us?"

"Wardens, and especially Warden recruits are a rare commodity now. In these times we must make sacrifices, including accepting questionable people into our ranks."

"Questionable people- he's a thief, an outlaw. Someone who pretty much got me tainted!"

"The decision has already been made Arnor, and don't forget who is the commander here." Duncan reminded, his voice and look becoming sterner

"Yes ser... sorry ser.."

"He may yet surprise you, sometimes the least likely of people can have a great impact." The Warden Commander said. It sounded like he spoke from experience.

"So, how many other recruits do we have? I met the Dalish you brought here, you got any other prospects besides him and the thief?" Arnor asked as his temper started to cool.

Ignoring his comment Duncan answered calmly "There are two others that I have brought here waiting to undergo the Joining, but I'm not sure where they are. In any case I have a task for you, find Alistair and tell him to prepare for a trip into the wilds. While Luthien helps me prepare the ritual, the two of you will be taking the prospects into the forest.

"Why, what's there?"

"You may remember Riordan mentioning that stages of your Joining were skipped, normally before the ritual the candidates must gather their own vials of darkspawn blood to use in their Joining. With you and the others you had already proven you could fight darkspawn so I felt it wasn't needed."

"I don't think I would have made it that long anyway."

"Perhaps not, but now is not the time to think of the past, find Alistair quickly, the ritual must be performed soon."

Nodding in assent Arnor traversed the length of the camp only to find his friend arguing with a mage who stormed off after trading words with the former Templar. Evidently Alistair had been made to deliver a message and the process was not going smoothly. Hopefully speaking with the ever cheerful former Templar would help his mood after that discussion with Duncan.

"Trouble with the mages again Alistair?" he asked, startling the other Warden with his sudden presence.

"Ah! Oh Maker it's just you, and to answer your question yes. *sigh* I thought I left behind dealing the with the Circle when I left that Order but nooooo!"

"And you let the Revered Mother boss you around if I heard correctly ?" Armor asked as he crossed his arms in disapproval. "What does that say about the rest of us? I can't imagine Luthien taking orders from that old woman."

"Yep that's the Blight, bringing people together, working together-"

"And struggling together... At any rate we need to prepare for a little trip into the woods. These recruits need to gather their own darkspawn blood."

"What fun, going into a nasty swamp filled with darkspawn and Andraste knows what else. This is exactly what I signed on for!" Alistair deadpanned as he looked out onto the expanse of the wilds from their vantage point. The two of them could sense the growing horde but it was impossible to tell the exact number.

"You've been here longer than I have, what's the situation exactly, any archdemons pop up out of the ground?" Arnor asked as he wondered just how many of the monsters were hiding in the trees.

"We've won about three battles against the darkspawn already, but more and more of them keep coming each time. The horde's probably going to outnumber us the next time we fight..."

"We'll make it out of this mess," Arnor reassured his friend, patting him on the back "After all if we can survive Gawain's cooking we can survive this!"

"Ha! That's true! I suppose we'd better get ready to lead these people into the wilds then." The ex-Templar admitted as they began walking back to the main area of camp.

"How much do you know about the recruits?

"Not much," Alistair paused before continuing," And I didn't know about Daveth until later."

"I don't really feel like talking about it. Duncan made the decision, he's our leader." Arnor muttered as he absentmindedly kicked around a rock.

"If it makes you feel any better, I was against it once I heard who he was, if you'd believe it Hurin and Dain backed me up on it too." Alistair noted as he gestured to the human and the dwarf arguing fervently with the quartermaster.

"Now I know you're lying!" Arnor jokingly accused as he lightly punched Allistair in the shoulder. "Ever since the Mission to Dragon's Peak they've hated me!"

"No I swear it's entirely true! They said it was a bad idea, claimed they didn't need even more people hating you in the compound!" Alistair laughed as he remembered the human and the dwarf trying to come up with excuses as to why they were supporting Arnor. "Duncan overruled us though..."

"It's alright, I appreciate the thought, even from those two stuck ups."

"The other recruits are a knight from Highever Rory or Jory I think his name was, and this elf from an alienage in Denerim named Estel."

"What's their story? Everybody's seems to have one these days." Arnor asked as he kicked the rock off the ledge landing it in the valley below.

"The man from Highever's pretty standard novel stuff, knight wins a tournament, knight get's picked to join the Grey Wardens."

"Didn't you get picked up from a tournament too?"

"Yeah, but I didn't win anything. I remember your sister was the one who beat me out of that thing! Maker, did all the martial skill in your blood get passed to her?" Alistair asked as he was reminded of the woman who swept through the other Templars like a gale wind.

"That's what my father thought at one point..." Arnor muttered barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to.."

"It's nothing, what about this Estel person?"

Alistair's eyebrows made a curious upward motion as he shook his head and stated "Well, let's just say she's a bit..."

* * *

"If you have something to say, say it blood face!" Estel Tabris exclaimed as a withering glare from the Dalish Warrior did little to deter her.

"I was just thinking about how elves like you choose to live underneath the thumb of the shemlen and worship their god." Turgon retorted irritated with the other recruit who only served to remind him of the oppression he barely escaped.

"Choose to live- You think I made a decision to live in poverty! You think my parents did or their parents before them? No, they were born into their lives and their circumstances, but to you and your little band frolicking in the woods, we're not even elves!"

"You've submitted to their laws, theirs cites, their religion and customs. What makes you any different from them?"

"See what I mean?" Alistair asked as he and Arnor observed the scene from a distance and heard the yelling and shouting it produced.

"Well, Duncan certainly knows how to find... spirited recruits." Arnor admitted as he started to walk up to them to try and break up the argument before it turned violent. "Alright, alright, I love a good culture debate as much as the next person but you two need to stuff it for now!"

"And just who are you?" Estel asked hands lingering on her dual daggers on her belt "Another shem come to boss me around?"

"No, just your senior officer in the Grey Wardens." Arnor responded evenly trying to take on that voice of calm Duncan seemed to have. "I'm here to make sure all the recruits are prepared for the expedition into the wilds."

"Why aren't you checking up on the other two recruits shem? Is it only the elves you have to watch? Are we that helpless to you? Afraid I'm gonna bolt and steal your valuables?"

"Alistair is checking up on Daveth and Jory. My... history with Daveth makes me a bad candidate to talk with him."

"I am prepared to fight," Turgon responded in answer to Arnor's worries "What exactly are we waiting for before heading off on our mission?"

"We're waiting for Duncan, he has to give us the go ahead before we can leave the camp. Last I heard he's probably checking up on our last potential Warden."

"What's this even about anyway? Grey Wardens just fight darkspawn, what's with all this ritual crap?" Estel asked as she toyed with her weapons and menacingly glared at the ranger.

"Don't speak of what you do not know! What you do now is what is necessary for your induction into the order." Arnor tired to explain without saying too much about the Joining.

"I had patience once, I didn't cause trouble or ask too many questions. And what did that get me? It got me kiddnapped and my cousin rapped!"

Arnor was taken aback by this sudden outburst. From the stories Luthien told him, life in the alienage was difficult, but the sense of community and family usually kept the people together. "If one of the family was hurt in anyway," Luthien once said "Maker help whoever the criminal was." The elves of the city generally couldn't go to the authorities to seek justice. If a wronged person wanted retribution, chances are they would have to take it into their own hands. Arnor saw looking at the blood on the elf's bloody leather armor, there was a lot of killing involved in this one's sense of justice.

"I'm... sorry to hear that." Arnor stammered, then tried to regain his composure. "But everything will be explained in it's time and in it's place. I'm not the one to speak to about it."

"Admittedly I too am curious about what this ritual entails, I was told there was a cure for the taint within the Wardens." Turgon said as he glared at Arnor.

"The ritual is part of the cure, but don't think that once you have it that you can just leave the Wardens. Joining the Order isn't just a cure, it's also a calling."

"I have a responsibility to my clan and to my people! Once this business with the Blight is over with I fully intend to go back."

"There is no going back."

"I don't know what you shems think of duty and family, but the clan is my family! No calling can be greater than that."

"The calling of the Wardens is." Arnor stated matter-of-factly.

Arnor remembered he was once in the same position, tainted, sick, and angry. This elf carried such dedication in his voice. He wondered if all Dalish held their clans so sacred, but no bond, no oath, and no obligation was greater than his. To save the world from the darkspawn everything must be sacrificed. Secrecy and deception, lies and trickery, all fair game in the quest to save the people of Thedas. Some took it better than others, but all would have a part to play if this was truly the scourge that Armor saw on his dreams.

"We shall see, won't we shem."

Arnor sighed, this would be an interesting batch of recruits.

* * *

Wynne had seen a plethora of injuries in her time, as one of the best healers in the Circle she was often called upon to see to the worst of these poor men and women. For many there was little she could do except ease their passing to the Maker's side. The darkspawn taint was something beyond even the greatest of magics. Aside from the Grey Wardens or so she heard. This one's injuries though, were of man made weapons. Simple cuts and arrows from hands untainted by the corruption. That wasn't to say it did not require her full effort and attention. Many of these injuries should have killed this boy, but he claimed that he had come here all the way from Highever. Wynne attributed his survival in part to the man's stubbornness but also to the young woman sitting on a nearby chair.

Luthien Surana, the prodigal mage. So much potential in such a fiery package. Irving's greatest pride and greatest failure he used to say. Had it only been six months since the incident? Had so little time passed since Jowan's forbidden love had embarrassed the Circle and cost it one of it's most promising students? In any case it seemed the basic healing spells Wynne and the other mages at the Circle had taught her stopped one Danson Cousland from dieing of his wounds. Wynne had done as she could, now it would have to be up to the noble's own constitution to pull him through. It was then the Elven mage immediately stood at attention as she noticed a person coming her way. Wynne wondered who could cause a person like Luthien to such action, as she then looked upon the Warden Commander himself.

"What is his condition?" He asked Wynne as his eyes scanned Danson's wounds.

"He is recovering better than could reasonably be expected." She answered, tired from expending that much mana in the healing effort.

"Thank you for your effort Madame, but I'm afraid I need to speak with him alone." Duncan said as also he gestured for Luthien to leave.

"Ser, with all due respect with his wounds, it's best not to strain him so soon after receiving them."

"I understand," Duncan said as he looked at the warrior now simply sitting on his cot in silence "But the Warden's don't always have the luxury of doing what's best. I must ask you again to leave."

"Then I will leave you to your recruitment." The Circle Healer sighed knowing full well Duncan's purpose as she left the infirmary tent.

Danson Cousland's wounds were indeed many, but Duncan was confident the man's spirit was stronger than Amaranthine blades. He wasn't able to tell if the man was lucid or not, but in this time risks were to be taken, anything to help bring the Blight to an end.

"Yes." Danson said under his breath as he seemingly stared at nothing.

Taken slightly aback by the man's quick response to his presence Duncan asked "Do you know what I'm here for? Do you truly know what I ask?"

"Arnor described you during our escape here." Danson explained, as he got up to his feet and look at Duncan with weary eyes. "He told me you might be interested in me as a recruit. And yes, I'm a noble's son, I studied the history of your order. Of leaving your old life behind and of sacrifice and duty. Well my old life is gone, and even after this battle is over and Howe is hung how could I ever go back to Highever?"

"You're certainly quick to make important choices." Duncan noted as the noble's eyes softened but lost none of their resolve.

"Every night since escaping Highever my dreams are filled will flames. The screams of my people ring in my ears. There are moments I think I can feel the tears of my mother on my hands and smell my father's blood seeping through his wounds." Danson revealed as he sat back down on his cot. "I owe your Wardens my life ser, and the life I knew is gone. I would like to dedicate the strength I have left to your cause."

"You've been thinking about this for some time."

"There's been time. Those dreams don't make it easy to sleep. After this is over I'll have to tell my brother what's happened to our family, and I don't know how I'll do it. I don't know what I can do now with my life except fight. Everything else I was raised to do, to rule, to manage, to care for my family, its all useless now. I'm not the Champion of Highever anymore, I failed. I failed to protect my family, failed to stop a murdering bastard from claiming my home!" He yelled out as tears began to form. "But my duty remains, I failed in my duty to Highever, but I will not fail my country. To protect my homeland against the darkspawn I will sacrifice what little life I have left." Danson affirmed as his eyes took on the look of determination that defined the Cousland family.

"Then I offer you a place with the Grey Wardens." Duncan spoke as he held out his hand before the scion of nobles. Danson grasped the outstretched hand firmly and pulled himself up to his feet. There were still tears in his eyes, but there was also resolve stronger than steel. Rage and anger still festered in his heart, but today he would dedicate himself to a noble cause. And he knew that wherever his parents where now. They were looking down on him with pride.

* * *

Even among an organization so colorful as the Grey Wardens anyone would be hard pressed to find a stranger group. Four humans from all ends of the social ladder stood some distance apart from each other. In particular the two rogues kept their distance as there was only a little sense of duty that stopped Arnor from damning the consequences and gutting him on the spot. The two junior Wardens also exchanged worried glances with each other. A glory hound knight, a slippery thief, a hot tempered elf, and a Dalish hunter who didn't trust anyone. This would be a fun trip.

Even farther apart from everyone were the two elves who even kept their distance from each other. One small and red haired, defiant of the world that tried to box her in. The other, an elf of the wilds with dark hair and a stern, proud glance. Both were extremely different products of the Elven people after the fall of the Dales. Both faced hardship everyday, both wary of the race of men who looked down on and feared them, respectively.

The heavy sound of clanking armor caught everyone's attention as Duncan and the Cousland arrived. Once again in his heavy chainmail and his ancestral weapons, the noble was ready for battle. Arnor welcomed the man with a handshake and he fell in with the other recruits. Duncan explained to them their task; first they each to collect a vial of darkspawn blood for use in their joining, and second they were to find an ancient Warden cache containing ancient treaties with which the Grey Wardens could call on the aid of several groups of people. Arnor and Alistair had been assigned to help lead them through the wilds and keep wary for any large group of darkspawn. Given their orders and their leave, the group fell in behind Alistair as they ventured into the swamp.

The most noticeable thing about the wilds was the smell. Great Maker the smell. A bog of decaying plants and animals festered in the standing water along with all manners of bugs. Many a carnivorous predator lurked in the brush waiting for a chance to strike at fresh prey while birds fluttered through the dense foliage. The heavy armor of the Cousland and the knight did poorly as their heavy boots sank into the marshy swamp and the water and mud leaked into their shoes. Flies and mosquitoes hovered around the party just slightly out of reach as the dense humid air made even breathing slightly uncomfortable. The light of the sun was pale here, obscured by the tall trees that boxed them in on rough uneven paths that were barely solid enough to stand on. Perhaps it would have been more appropriate to bring a boat than attempt to traverse this place on foot.

Arnor took this opportunity away from Duncan's scrutiny to slink back and confront a certain criminal who walked nervously trying to avoid him.

"Fancy seeing you here." Arnor opened with his voice lacking any of his usual friendliness.

"Shit it's you! I should have known this would happen soon or later! Duncan told me about this warned me-" the thief responded nervously

"What did he say? That maybe you should be a little nervous to see a man you left to die at the hands of monsters? Me and Tomas would have died there if Duncan and Alistair hadn't shown up, by all accounts I should be with the Maker."

"I know, I know I was wrong to run into danger, but you and your buddy didn't have to follow me!"

"And what should we have done? Let you run off? You were our quarry, I had to help support my family! I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that though would you?"

"No..." Daveth admitted "But right now I'm a Warden, right now I'm trying to do something right for a change. Duncan gave me a chance, I'm not going to waste it."

"Duncan may have recruited you, but you a not a Warden yet. I don't trust you, but aparently Duncan saw something in you. Maker only knows what it is, but I trust him. Watch your back though, because the second it seems like you're going to cut and run, you'll have a dozen arrows sticking out of your back." Arnor promised as he walked back to the front of the column and Daveth breathed a sigh of relief.

The group marched on eventually encountering the corpses of men bearing the standard of Highever. Danson immediately rushed to the area, praying to Andraste that Fergus wasn't among the dead. As it turned out none of the bodies were that of his brother, but what's more one of the soldiers was still alive.

"M'lord, is that you?" The man groaned, bleeding profusely as it was clear to everyone that he didn't have much time left. "What... What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story," Danson replied as he kneeled down to look the trooper in the eye."What happened here? Where is my brother?"

"We were- sent here by Teyrn Loghain on a scouting mission. Darkspawn were waiting for us, took us by surprise... Maker, we never stood a chance, it all happened so fast..."

"Fergus soldier! What happened to Fergus?" The Cousland begged as he shook the dining man in hopes of learning the elder son's fate.

"I don't know m'lord..." The man gasped as his life began to fade "Forgive me..."

Danson's were as wide as dinner plates as he continues to yell and shake the now dead body as if the noise and motion would be enough to bring back the dead.

"Did you hear that? An entire company of men destroyed by the darkspawn! If they were all massacred in a surprise attack, what chance do we have?"

"I had no idea that the standard for bravery among shemlen knight was so low." Turgon rebuked as his disdain for the warrior grew immensely.

"I'm am no coward _elf_!" Ser Jory spat as he tried and failed to intimidate the Dalish "I simply don't know whether this whole thing was a good idea. Maybe we should turn back."

"You sure sound like a coward to me." Estel muttered as Alistair decided to try and ease Jory's fears.

"Don't worry, we won't be caught off guard. Grey Wardens can sense the presence of darkspawn, that's why me and Arnor are here. Do you think Duncan sent us to see the trees?"

"You see ser knight? We may die here but we'll be warned about it first!" Daveth joked trying and failing to clear the tension hanging in the air.

"Speaking of warning..." Arnor interrupted as his eyes narrowed and skull pounded, "We've got incoming!"

Arnor's spawn sense had always been somewhat superior to the others among the Wardens. Some of the Order attributed it to the fact that he was once tainted, but others had been recruited under the similar circumstances and did not posses Arnor's range and accuracy when it came to weeding out the spawn. That quickly earned him the role of the main scout among the Ferelden Wardens, and his usefulness showed as he quickly knocked an arrow and fired into the head of a charging genlock.

Turgon also responded fast, years in the wild having to react in split seconds or face death will do that to a person. Arrows flew through the trees killing several hurlocks before they got a chance to close into melee distance. His focus was quickly brought to the many hurlock archers who pelted the group from a distance. Seeing Arnor turn his attention to ranged attackers Turgon did likewise as one and then two hurlocks fell to Dalish arrows.

Still more and more appeared as Danson and Jory charged in with long and greatswords. The Cousland's blade was a hurricane of death, tainted blood spilled left and right as grey iron cut through flesh and bone with wild abandon. The shield of his house was pelted by several arrows but none managed to pierce the metal as the rage of the Last of the Couslands powered through the ranks of the darkspawn. Jory on the other hand focused on great sweeping blows.

Their foil was Alistair who's tight disciplined movements wasted no energy but remained effective at keeping back the three genlocks who were engaging him. The Oathkeeper blade he retained from his time as a Templar slashed through the poor armor of a genlock as the creature screamed in agony before perishing. It's two brethren did not appreciate seeing their comrade fall as they rushed Alistair only to be pushed by spirit energy as he smote the creatures for two easy targets.

Very different from the sword and shield or great sword combat of the warriors the knives of Daveth and Estel spun and moved in an intricate dance of death. Backstabs, feints, and swift motions were the tools of these two combatants as surgical precision was applied to end the lives of four attacking hurlocks.

Arnor scanned the battlefield as a new sensation entered his mind, that of a darkspawn with influence. While most of the beast were mindless automatons, some of the horde could impress their wills upon their fellow creatures and command groups such as these. At this point it was impossible to tell whether it was an alpha or an emissary, but a ranking spawn was here. His fears were comfirmed as a stonefist shot out and knocked Jory off his feet and a hurlock emissary revealed itself. Letting out a blood curdling cry of rage, the human sized darkspawn began lobbing nature magic blasts at the party.

The group was forced to take cover behind the trees as they found the energy from the corrupted staff impossible to avoid. Only Danson stood out in the open, relying on the sturdy metal of his family shield to absorb most of the damage.

Arnor stole a quick glance at Alistair who shook his head apologetically. He was too far, he would have to get closer to the emissary to effectively use his Templar abilities. Uttering a curse underneath his breath the ranger turned to Turgon as magic blasts began to tear apart his cover.

"Turgon! We have to give Alistair a chance to get closer to the mage! You and I are going to provide covering fire on my count of three, understand?"

The elf nodded as he prepared a few arrows ready to fire and distract their enemies.

"One, two, three!" The two archers burst out from the tree cover to fire in rapid succession. Without really aiming there was little chance of actually killing anything, but that didn't matter as the emissary and its accompanying hurlocks were distracted and unable to fire properly faced with the hail of arrows. Giving Alastair all the time he needed. As soon as he heard the bowstring twang Alistair began a headlong rush to get into smiting range. _Fifty feet,_ Alistair noted as the rain of arrows began to slow, _Thirty-Five feet, _Arnor and Turgon were reaching for the few remaining arrows in their quivers, _Thirty feet, _The hurlocks began to recover from the suppressing fire. _Twenty-five feet! _Now in the range of his anti mage abilities Alistair once again unleashed spirit power on the darkspawn. Knocking the emissary and it's retinue down gave Danson the chance to charge in and decapitate a prone darkspawn.

Not wanting to be left out of the struggle Estel closed the distance tossed a knife at one of the three remaining hurlocks and punctured it's heart. Meanwhile Alistair made use of his chantry training to further silence the mage darkspawn and kill the magic wielding beast. The last two of the spawn, demoralized by the loss of their leader, ran off as Arnor and Turgon used their last arrows to shoot them in their backs. Breathing heavily after the battle, the group found they now had the perfect chance to collect blood for the vials with so many darkspawn corpses before them. Filling the vials with the blood necessary for their Joining, the Warden prospects were reminded by Alistair that the job of collecting the ancient treaties was still to be done.

* * *

Once upon a time the Tevinter Imperium had control over most of the lands of Thedas. After the fall of Arlathan, the mage ruled empire was free to consolidate its power and build fortifications across the continent. Examples of which would be Ostagar or Fort Drakon, structures still powerful and defensible against any attacker. The power of the Tevinters would not last though, Andraste, with her teachings and army brought the Imperium to its knees, and The First Blight which destroyed the Dwarven Empire also crippled Imperium. They were forced to abandon these once great structures. Incidentally this event created also the Wardens, men and women from every race and background banded together to end the Blight. After the victory over the first archdemon the Wardens were given old outposts such as this to use for their order to help protect and watch the land for the threat of the darkspawn.

But these ruins were desolate, the Wardens long ago left this area to fortify their strongholds in the Anderfels and other area more heavily affected by the spawn. Still, they left behind the foundations of these buildings and the caches remained. While the weapons and armor stored in case of emergency were long since decayed, the chest containing the treaties was said to be protected by powerful seals that should save them. However, upon locating the box they found it empty and its contents looted.

"Well well well, what have we here?" A cold sultry voice echoed through the ancient stone "Elves and men come here to loot these ruins long since abandoned? You are intruders in my wilds, so I might ask some questions of you, if it would not strain you overmuch."

"Listen lady we didn't come here to bother you we just came here to pick up some pieces of paper that belong to us." Estel spoke up before the others could speak to this new arrival, who was dressed in what would barely be considered rags.

"You have come to find what is no longer here, surely you have a little time for conversation?"

"You stole those documents didn't you! You're some sort of sneaky-witch-thief!" Alistair accused as the stranger gave a look of mock indignation.

Arnor shook his head in dismissal as he tried to patch things over, "Sorry about my friend here, but those documents are important to us. Do you have any idea where they are now?"

"Don't try talking to her! She's a witch of the Wilds she is! She'll turn us all into toads!"

"Witch of the wilds, such idle fancies you keep, but to answer _your_ question, my mother removed them long ago from this outpost after the seals decayed. She protected them, after your order abandoned this place."

"Um thanks... I guess. What is your name, and could you take us to your mother, we sort of need those documents." Arnor stammered as the farm boy found the scantily clad woman walking closer and closer to him.

"I am Morrigan," The dark haired woman spoke as she skirted past Arnor to the edge of the ruins overlooking a stretch of the wilderness. "I could lead you to my mother, but there is no need. I have your papers for you now. Mother gave them to me, saying that your order would come here soon to retrieve that which they left behind."

"So we're to believe you sat around here in this swamp waiting for Wardens to look into a box? Right... can anyone say creepy?" Alistair asked earning a slight chuckle from Turgon

"Can we just take the documents and go please? I don't like the idea of staying in this swamp any longer than we have to!"

"Andraste's pubic hair, quit trying to bail out of here! I thought soldiers like you were supposed to have a sense of courage?" Estel barked as the knight could only hang his head low and mumble.

"I any case, we **would** like those documents please, thank you very much." Danson interrupted bring the conversation back on track.

"They are doing me no good sitting in my pack, I suppose it would be prudent to give these back to your order." Morrigan said as she took the treaties out her pack and handed them to Arnor.

"Uh- thanks um. We should just be going now..." Arnor said checked the papers and found they were indeed imprinted with the Grey Warden insignia.

"Goodbye then, I suspect that you wish to return to your comrades and I shan't keep you." The witch said and for the briefest moment there was a frown on her face that quickly disappeared.

Leaving the ruins and the strange woman behind them, the Wardens trekked through the marshy swamp towards Ostagar as the sun began to set in the sky. As the moon rose and the torches lit for an army preparing for battle, no one could predict the sort of consequences it would have.

* * *

**A/N Wow, already about 30,000 words long? I can't believe I've done it. As you can probably tell the chaptres are getting longer, from here on this should be the average length. Let me know your feelings about the Warden recruits. The battle of Ostagar should be posted in about a week or so with some special guest stars. Please read on and review! Input is always welcome.**


	7. Join Us Brothers and Sisters

As night fell and darkness overtook the sun it seemed preparations for a major battle were underway. Men and women scrambled in every direction carrying weapons, armor, and supplies to all corners of the camp. Turgon snorted in disgust as he noticed that most of the people carrying the heavy equipment were elves.

Meeting them at the bonfire was Luthien, now dressed in new blue robes decorated with the griffon mark.

"What took you so long?" The mage asked as the group approached the fire, "You decide to try and climb trees and smell the roses?"

"We decided to take them on the scenic route!" Alistair answered before Arnor could make his own crack.

"Seems that way, what with all the muck you're trailing everywhere."

"Hey we didn't have the benefit of staying here in the fortress Lu." Arnor chastised jokingly as he dusted some dirt off his cloak. "I bet you were all nice and cozy warm while we trekked in the cold and mud!"

"Actually I was. I was nice and cozy warm mixing lyrium with Maker knows what to make-"

"Make what exactly?" Turgon interrupted, growing tired of the "You'll sees" and "All will be revealed laters."

"To make your cure Dalish!" Arnor exasperated as he clutched his head in frustration.

"Just hand me the vials and Duncan or one of us will come to get you for the Joining ceremony." Luthien said as the five Warden prospects moved to fulfil that request. "Farmboy, Alistair, Duncan wants you two over there as well. You guys get to help oversee this thing too."

"I hope you aren't put off by my presence on the Joining you worked hard to facilitate, m'lady." Arnor said, making a mocking bow that made Luthien's eyes narrow.

"Just get your ass over there Edain, and remember to give Duncan those treaties too!" The mage responded annoyed enough to use Arnor's surname as the three began to walk off to the old temple.

"You sure do like antagonizing her don't you?" Alistair whispered as he nudged his friend ever so slightly

"What can I say? It's a lot of fun to rile people up. You just gotta know when to do it, and who to do it too."

Chuckling as they walked briskly to prepare the ceremony the Warden Ensigns left the recruits at the bonfire awaiting their fate. Amidst the commotion of the camp the fear of the men could be plainly seen. The horde had grown immensely in size since the last three battles, and the multitude of casualties from the previous battles were a testament to it's viciousness and brutality even when outnumbered. Now as the balance of force shifted in favor of the spawn, the spirit of the army wavered. It seemed that their morale was only held in place by their leaders. By Loghain's reputation and experience, and by their king's spirit and enthusiasm. Also around the camp prayers were lifted to the Maker as Revered Mothers and Chantry Brothers and Sisters administered prayers and final rites should the worst happen.

But amid the chaos, confusion, the hustle and bustle of the camp the Warden tents were all quiet amidst the noise. While at first the recruits assumed the older members can gone to the front already the lights in the tents told a different story. Solem the Wardens were as if waiting for a coming inevitable storm, and they would be in the thick of it. Fighting alongside the king for battle that either stop the Blight here or surely doom Ferelden.

"Darkspawn blood, lyrium... The more I hear about this Joining the less I like it." Jory said as he visibly shook in his armor

"Jeez Ser knight, most of what we've been hearing from you is complaint after complaint. What did Duncan see in you anyway?" Daveth asked voicing most of the group's opinion

"I am a warrior, I fought the best of Redcliffe's knights and prevailed!" Jory defended quickly "And I have a wife and child back home! Do they plan on sacrificing us?

"The Wardens do what they must. They've ended Blights before, so I think they of all people would know what it takes to end this madness. I've studied history Ser Jory, a Blight is the greatest calamity the world can ever face." Danson said with firmness in his voice

"Well I for one have no intention of sacrificing myself," Turgon stated, crossing his arms "My clan still has need of me especially after Tamlen's disappearance. To lose two experienced hunters is a blow the Sabre Clan can ill afford."

"Yeah? Well your pretty little travelin band will have to wait on ya won't they? You saw those monsters back in the forest same as me, if there's an horde of them out there we're gonna need everybody we can get to fight those things." Estel spat as she wiped tainted blood off her daggers "If those things aren't stopped here they'll march on all of Ferelden, and I'm not seeing the alienage burnt down by those things."

It was then in complete silence Arnor approached the bonfire, making his presence known by clearing his throat. Wordlessly he gestured for them to follow, a grim and sad look set upon his face as he led them to a ruined temple where Alistair and Luthien stood off to the side. A slab of marble that might have once been a magnificent altar stood in the center, and upon it a silver chalice filled to the brim with a mysterious mixture that forever changes all who consume it. In the center of the chamber Duncan stood tall and proud wielding an aura of command and respect that caused everyone in the room to stand just a little bit straighter.

"At last we come to the Joining." He began, pacing slightly as Arnor took up a position beside Luthien. "Since the first Wardens took up the fight in Anderfels it has been our duty to stand against the darkspawn wherever they may be. To fight the spawn we give everything, mind, body, and spirit in a battle we know is never ending."

"To truly fight the darkspawn this ritual is necessary, with it is the source of our power and victory. To defeat the them and end the Blight we must drink their blood and take the taint within us to master it. With it we can sense the taint within the darkspawn and use it to slay the archdemon. Since the first this has been what separated us, what binds us, and what allows us to save all of Thedas."

This announcement seemed to shock the recruits who simply stood in silence. All except for Turgon who shouted angrily at Duncan.

"This is no cure shem! This is just more death, more of the Taint! This is-

"This is your only chance at seeing another winter Turgon!" Arnor yelled stepping out of the line, "The taint's a death sentence plain and simple, you either become a Warden, or watch yourself painfully and slowly transform into a ghoul. I will tell you now that there are things worse than death itself, I've seen it firsthand. Now you can choose to join us, or you can choose your end."

Now everyone save Duncan was shocked at Arnor's outburst. In all the time Alistair and Luthien had known him he had only ever shown a condensed tranquil fury at individuals, if he ever got angry at all. Even Daveth, who Arnor should've hated most of all did not experience this kind of wrath. Leave it to the Warden Commander however, not to be phased by anything. It was this kind of spirit he sensed in the man, the kind of spirit that does not come from the Fade, but a person's soul.

Turgon backed down silently after this Duncan took this as a sign that it was time to begin.

"Before the Joining a few words have been spoken since the first, if you will my friends."

In unison with seriousness rarely seen in the three individuals, the mantra began.

"Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day, we shall join you."

"Turgon Mahariel, step forward." Duncan commanded as the Dalish moved to face Duncan and took the chalice within his hands. "You are called upon to submit yourself to the taint for the greater good."

Turgon took the chalice in his paling hands and drank of the foul substance. Immediately pain, pain unlike anything he had ever experience before shot through his throat and his entire being. The other recruits backed away slightly as they saw his eyes go blank and his body fall to the floor unconscious. Arnor moved forward to check for a pulse and nodded a silent affirmation to Duncan. He lived.

"Daveth step forward." Duncan announced as the former thief walked up nervously up towards the chalice. Taking the same steps as Turgon did earlier he reached for the silver and drank of the substance.

Cries of terror could be heard as Daveth's eyes rolled back into his skull and his lungs began to fill with fluid. A loud choking noise could be heard emanating from his throat as he fell to the ground with an audible thud still clutching his throat. Blood began to pool on the stone as it leaked forward from his nose and mouth. A reminder of the terrible price the Wardens must pay.

"I am sorry Daveth..." Duncan breathed as he held out the chalice again for Jory who nervously began to back away. "Step forward Jory."

"No... No... You cannot ask me to do this!" He begged drawing his sword as he found himself against a wall. "I have a family! There's no glory in this!"

"There is no turning back." Duncan reminded as he drew his own dagger against the knight.

In a moment of desperation Jory struck out at the Commander, but his blow was easily parried by the much more experienced rogue. Again in fear he attacked but this time Duncan did not simply deflect, he struck into Jory's abdamanon muttered a prayer and apology as he did so. This was to the shock and horror of the two remaining potentials as Jory's blood began to pool with Daveth's on the stone floor.

Danson stole a look at Arnor and the other recruits to look at their reaction to this, but then that grim look of sadness on man's face suddenly made sense. Arnor must've known that this ritual could lead to death. Whether by the taint or by the blade, there was no turning back. All of the Warden Ensign's eyes there was a look of sadness and pity, and Danson thought he heard a silent prayer from Alistair.

"Danson Cousland, the Joining is not yet complete. Step forward." Firm in his motion and set in his goal, the noble son faced Duncan and drank of the chalice. "From this moment forward, you are a Grey Warden."

Danson felt the searing pain flash throughout his body the same as Turgon, but unlike the Dalish the noble's son saw images of a great dragon shrouded in green mist. If this was a dream or a vision this was lifelike as he thought he could hear the beast roaring in anger. No, he could definitely hear the archdemon! While he had read stories of dragons and the Old Gods, nothing prepared him for that. His mind and body were wracked by the taint and he collapsed onto the floor.

Again Arnor stepped forward to confirm that the recruit let lived, and was satisfied at the result.

Then only Estel remained. She gulped in her throat before stepping up to met Duncan and accept the Joining chalice. Her experience with the taint was much the same as the others. Only lacking Daveth's case of death. Unlike the others though she managed to retain consciousness, if only barely. Through blurry eyes and and burning sensation in her stomach, she saw the outstretched hand of Duncan piercing the darkness. Clutching the steel gauntlet firmly Estel was risen up to her feet as the others on being inducted were beginning to regain consciousness.

"It is done, welcome."

"Two deaths." Alistair muttered under his breath, "After a complete failure I suppose this is a step up."

"What- What do you mean complete failure?" Estel asked leaning on the wall of the structure after helping Danson up.

"We held a Joining about two months ago, not one of the recruits survived the process. It was horrible..." Alistair revealed, shivering from the memory of the blood stained walls and carpet of the compound.

"What exactly happened?" Turgon asked, barely standing and bewildered by the process he'd just undergone.

"There were three potentials. The first died from the chalice, we had to kill the other two." Luthien revealed, lowering her gaze, evidently she took no pleasure in the act.

"They drew their blades on you." Duncan reminded her, "They left you no choice, just as Jory did, but all of you are proof that our sacrifices are not made in vain."

"Hey, before we continue," Arnor motioned to the three recruits as he revealed silver pendants in the shape of griffon, "Take these, they're filled with the darkspawn blood. They serve as a reminder of everybody who didn't make it this far, and of what still lies ahead."

"There's going to be some... interesting side effects that we'll have to explain later, but for now clean yourselves up and prepare for battle. There's going to be a meeting with the king before this engagement, apparently our liege wants to fight alongside us in the coming battle." Luthien explained as Arnor began shuffling around uncomfortably.

"That's all fine and good, but who's going to take care of the bodies?" Arnor awkwardly asked looking at Daveth and Jory's corpses.

"I will handle the matter Arnor," Duncan reassured "For now prepare for the coming battle, every Warden will be needed in this fight."

With their orders given the Wardens now went back to their campsite to find it empty. Apparently the Senior Wardens had now truly left for the lines. Arnor moved into his tent and found the item he was looking for. A set of studded leather armor with metal plates protecting vital areas of the chest. Across the main breastplate, the griffon of the Wardens marked him as a member of the order. As he donned the heavier set of armor Arnor also caught a glimpse of his most prized possession.

A finely woven, red leather bound journal that was a gift from his sister when she heard the news he had joined the Grey Wardens. While he was slightly envious of Morwen for being the one father chose to send to the Chantry, how could he blame him? Morwen had always shown much greater skill in the blade, and the discipline that was need for the Order. Stories from Alistair only confirmed that she was indeed a great Templar, skilled in combat, dedicated to the Maker, and a leader who had already made knight corporal. She got into her Order through her skill. He got into his Order by chance.

He could never hate her or hold it against her though. She was always a kind big sister, if a little protective and loud. He sometimes found a pile of letters waiting for him at the compound, and he never wrote anyone. Not mother, not father, not Tomas, not Bella... Part of it was because of the nature of his occupation, the Wardens seldom stay in one play long enough to write proper letters. Part of it was just, him. Morwen had told him how proud she was that he managed to join the group he used to dream about fighting alongside, how that she was happy he'd found a place for himself. Morwen seemed to know as well as anyone in his family, that Arnor just wasn't a farmer, he had too much of his uncle in him.

How could he tell her that he'd only become apart of this because he was stupid? Because he wanted adventure, and it left mother and father crestfallen with the sudden loss of their only son. Still his sister wrote to him, often speaking of her life hunting dangerous apostates and maleficarum. She later admitted in one letter she only spoke a lot about those parts because she doubted he would be interested in hearing tales of her guarding tranquil mages.

Absent minded for a few moments Arnor took a little bit of time to write a few words in the book just in case the battle went south. Turn a new page Arnor labeled it: _The Battle of Ostagar._

**Though sung with a hundred arrows,**

**Though suffering from ailments both great and small,**

**His Heart was strong and he moved on.**

**Canticle of Erasmus 7:12**

**That was always one of my favorite parts of the chant. The great hero Erasmus who fought even when all hope was lost and all seemed doomed. Anyway, three recruits made it. Three out of fives not bad I guess. It's still hard to see people die in the Joining. Even if Daveth was a piece of trash it really sounded like he wanted to do something right. Maybe I shouldn't have treated him as harshly ask did. There's no time for speculation now. I don't think I'll ever get used to people dying from the chalice. But then again, what else is Joining the Wardens? Death now or death later. This battle with the darkspawn is supposed to be the one that ends the Blight before it begins. I don't know though... I can't sense an archdemon, but what I can sense is the horde. There must be thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands! Even without the archdemon present, how can anyone deny this is a Blight? And what if we fail here? What if the reach into northern Ferelden and to Redcliffe?**

"Hey farmboy!" The voice of Luthien rang from outside, interrupting his thoughts "You ready or you are you writing again? This meeting's gonna start whether or not you're there!"

"Don't rush me!" Arnor called back before throwing the journal into his pack along with a few poisons and poultices. "It takes time to look presentable to a king!"

"You're not a visiting diplomat, hurry up!"

"You had time to prepare while I was in the wilds so cut me some slack"

"Most of that time was spent getting the ritual ready!" **Luthien still being annoying.** "I can hear that pencil scribbling! Get over here!" Luthien exclaimed as she stormed into the tent and dragged Arnor out just as he fastened the last of the straps need to secure the armor.

"Hey! Hey! Careful!" He protested as he got up off the ground and dusted himself off from the dirt which now marked the leather and metal "Now look what you've done!"

"I wouldn't have to do that if it wasn't needed to get you moving!" The mage protested

"I was ready I just needed to jot down a few things!"

The two shot words back and forth in an endless cycle before being interrupted by a *ahem* coming from Alistair.

"Um... guys you missed the meeting..." He revealed nervously facing the glares of both his fellow ensigns. He also he wondered when exactly the other Wardens would have to pay up on that bet they made.

"Great! This is all your fault shem!" Luthien accused glaring up at the ranger's eyes.

"You know you didn't have to wait for me to get there!" The Arnor defended countering her glare with a look indignation,

"In case you didn't hear the Wardens were supposed to be here for a meeting with the king, that includes you right? Or did you forget?"

"I didn't forget, and anyway-"

"You know if I may say something?" Alistair asked as the other two both shouted at the same time

"Not now Alistair!"

"I just needed to give you guys your orders." Alistair stated which got the feuding Wardens' attention, "You two will be fighting with Duncan on the front with the king and the rest of the order. I got saddled with the task of lighting a bloody tower with the new recruits."

"Duncan wants to send you and the new guy to light a giant match?" Arnor asked deadpan, crossing his arms while trying to quell his indignation at the mage, "That doesn't sound like him, and why would you need four Wardens to make sure a signal gets lit?"

"Don't ask me. It was the king's idea not Duncan's, and apparently Duncan went along with it. Something about, "doing what's needed". Alistair replied trying to imitate Duncan's voice with that last part.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with..." Luthien began before Alistair raised his hand to stop that train of thought.

"No I don't think so, in fact I'm not even sure Cailin knows."

"So how long until we're called up to the stand?" Arnor asked as his sense kept telling him more and more bad news.

"Well, there's a few hours before the battle really begins and I'm actually needed at the tower. I think I'm going to go to the chapel they've set up. For all the bravado the King was swinging around I'm still a bit uneasy. Might as well say a few prayers just to be sure."

"We'll be fine." Luthien dismissed with a gesture, "We're always fine. What I'm wondering is how the rookies are doing. That last one, she didn't even fall down! What was her name anyway? I didn't catch it."

"Estel Tabris, she-"

"Tabris," Luthien interrupted abruptly as an old memory seemed to come to the surface "You said Tabris right?"

"Yes..." Arnor continued hesitantly, "She's an elf Duncan recruited from Denerim's alienage.

"Where is she?"

"Down by the quartermaster's." Alistair answered, equally intrigued by Luthien's sudden change of tone.

"I've got to go, excuse me!" Luthien declared quickly as she rushed out of the tent area to find the city elf leaving the two humans bewildered. For a few moments they just stood there and blinked a few times in surprise.

"What was that all about?" Alistair finally asked after he stopped blinking in confusion

"Not sure, but I'm willing to bet that maybe she knows her from somewhere. Maybe they knew each other from the alienage."

"Your guess is as good as mine. Well, probably better seeing as it's me we're talking about." Alistair joked causing Arnor to grin at the self deprecating humor "At any rate I think I'm going to head over to that chapel now, you want to tag along?"

Arnor shook his head in polite refusal, "No thanks, I think I'm going to write a bit more before we're ankle deep in darkspawn blood. Plus I don't want the Revered Mother to think she has another Grey Warden errand boy to boss around."

"Suit yourself." The ex-templar shrugged as he tramped off in the direction of the makeshift stand where a chantry sister was praying.

Arnor on the other hand decided to retreat back to his fortress of cloth and canvas and reopened the red book to quickly jot down a few more things.

**Maybe now I can actually get some clear concrete thoughts down before I'm interrupted again! Maybe right now those writing lessons will be put to good use. Can't I ever get some little time when I'm not interrupted? Usually it's Luthien, but other times it's someone else saying they need me for something. Can't they see I'm busy internalizing my thoughts? I'm rambling now, must be the nerves. Can we really win if all goes according to plan? I guess I shouldn't doubt so much, after all we don't just have Duncan we have the Hero of River Dane! Still, the darkspawn are no chevaliers, they're far more savage. We'll see how this goes, we'll see if this is my last entry.**

As Arnor put down the pencil a knock on the wood holding up the tent could be heard. Deciding to do the polite thing Arnor stepped out of his tent and was greeted to the stern face of Turgon whose mouth was pursed in a grim line.

"Something you need?" Arnor asked, trying to sound polite as he stepped out of his tent and stood facing the elf.

"No. Something you need. An... Apology from me." The elf mumbled obviously struggling with trying to speak respectfully to his superior officer.

"Really? For what?" Arnor said as he sat down on a log near a campfire some of the other Wardens had set up earlier.

"For the way I acted during the Joining," Turgon forced out while taking a seat on a log across from Arnor. "The lack of respect I held for your- our order now I suppose."

"You're new, it happens." Arnor reassured as he gave stirred the logs abit with his sword. "Still you did better than many I've heard about, and at least you didn't draw your blade like Jory, poor bastard."

"He was a coward, he backed away the your ritual even though he said he wanted to join the Wardens."

"What exactly happened to you that led you to the order? I know you were tainted, but everybody has a story beyond that."

Turgon mind and thoughts were brought back to the forest and an adventure that cost a friend, _It's gonna be fine Turgon! We're the best hunters in the clan! _A relationship with the clan. _Where is Tamlen Mahariel? Where did you lead my son? How could you have been so foolish? _And a life among the Dalish. _The only way for you to survive is to become a Grey Warden. _When he accepted Duncan's offer it was a matter of necessity. Keeper Marethari herself said that it was his only, slim chance for survival. Nowhere was it mentioned that he would have to drink of the taint and it would bind him forever to this order.

Among the Dalish the Wardens are respected, not given the heroic reverence most dwarves give, or the wild range from suspicion to worship of the humans. Their role and purpose is necessary for life to continue for all the races of Thedas. While a Dalish Grey Warden is not unheard of, it's certainly rare given that it is difficult even for Wardens to locate the clans. It is harder still to convince a clan member to leave behind their family to fight monsters many of the clans considered a shemlen problem.

"I have a story and a reason for why I needed to join your order, but it's a lengthy one, and probably nothing a shem like you would be interested in." Turgon said a little too quickly to avoid suspicion

"We've time yet before the fight, and I think it's important to know someone who I'm supposed to trust on the battlefield." Arnor reasoned as he threw another log into the dying fire. "I could tell you mine instead if you're interested."

"I think not. I only came to apologize for my actions earlier nothing more." Turgon as he began to leave the area only for Arnor to add one last remark

"If you really wanted to say sorry to anyone it should have been Duncan. Why did you come to me?"

That stopped the elf who turned his head back and stared into the eyes of the Redcilffer

"Our commander is preparing for the battle and is otherwise occupied, the other senior Wardens have already left for the front." Turgon replied with just the smallest bit of respect in the Elf's otherwise dismissive voice.

"Is this because I was the one who called you out for being an ass during the Joining?" Arnor chuckled

"Partly," Turgon admitted as he turned his head back, "You seem to posses more resolve than I thought."

"Well...thank you I suppose, and good luck to you when you go up to that tower." Arnor replied giving a nod of respect to the other archer.

"And to you on the battlefield, shemlen though you may be_._" The Dalish added as he walked off to make his own preparations before the coming storm.

* * *

Alistair may have hated life in the chantry but that didn't mean he wasn't a religious man. Somehow, despite his dislike for the institution that represented the Maker, Alistair didn't fault him for the fact that the organization dedicated to spreading his word was a bit... Harsh. There were good people in the chantry true, he saw men and women with unshakeable faith and the desire to make the Maker's world a better place. Yet at the same time he saw strict, dogmatic, and uncaring people who seemed to lord their positions over others. It wasn't Alistair's faith in the Maker that was lacking, it was his faith in the chantry.

It helped to believe in something, he thought, when everything around him was concerned with death. Heck, even what little life he and his fellow Wardens had was limited to thirty more years at most. Still the Wardens were more fun than the templars, and the food with them was better too. It had to be in order to keep up with the appetite one gets after drinking from the chalice anyway. Kneeling down Alistair muttered a few prayers he'd learned from his days in the monastery.

"Maker in your palace. Blessed be you and your prophet Andraste. May your will be worked on earth and your chant be spread through the corners of the world. Grant us the prosperity for our daily needs. Deliver from those who would do your children harm, protect us in darkness. Let our paths be true and free of evil. And the blessings of your bride Andraste be upon us. Amen."

As he finished and stood to his feet, he caught sight of Danson in his heavy chainmail praying close to the altar with one of the sisters. Waiting for the tall warrior to finish his prayer Alistair decided to talk to the man who he would have to fight alongside.

"A prayer for protection before the battle? Alistair asked, slightly startling the man, who quickly regained his composure.

"No." Danson stated bluntly. "A prayer for my family. They are with the Maker now. I wanted to do something..."

"Um...Wow... Sorry. I'm not good with comforting, stuff, things."

"Then don't try." Danson growled as he stood up from his kneeling position. "When this battle is over and the darkspawn chased back into the ground I will see their murderer hanged."

"If it's any consolation, I'm sure the king won't let the criminal go unpunished. He's a good man."

"I'll fight all the soldiers of Amaranthine on my own if I have to, king's support or no. I made a promise to to avenge my parents and my home. I won't break that commitment and become an oathbreaker like Howe." The Cousland made clear with fire in his eyes that bore into the chantry boy.

"I didn't mean anything by it! But I'm just a little worried that's all! I mean you've got skill and rage that's always good against the darkspawn, but it's still a little scary watching you. Just saying." The ex-templar explained nervously as Danson narrowed his eyes at him.

While he could be naive, clumsy, and unfocused. When he truly felt something was important Alistair dedicated himself fully. The Grey Wardens were a purpose to him, and a family. Something he had never really had anywhere else. While he felt sorrow and pity for the man, the fact that Danson seemed to hold this vendetta so close to his heart worried Alistair.

"I don't forget the promises I make. To the family or the the Wardens, take note of that." Danson reassured holding up the Warden's Oath he received as proof.

"As you say then. I guess I can't fault you for feeling the way you do. I've never really experienced loss like that. Maybe it's because I've never had much to lose anyhow." Alistair revealed as his mood became slightly somber and dour.

"Are you saying you never had a family?" Danson asked not knowing much about Alistair other than what Arnor said during the trip. All that mainly included was that Alistair was a former templar.

"No, not really. See I'm a bastard, and before you get any ideas, the fatherless kind." He said with a humorless chuckle. "I lived in Redcliffe for a few years before I was sent to the Chantry, and after that it was off to the templars for me."

"So your mother sent you to the chantry because she couldn't raise you?"

"My mother died giving birth to me, so unless her ghost signed those papers I really doubt that's the case!"

"What was life like at the monastery? Is it everything the court gossips speak of?" Danson asked, he had often been threatened with that life before, and it was usually enough to get him to behave.

"Well if the court ladies are saying that we eat fine foods and get comfy beds, and dance naked under the moonlight then no that's not what it's like. But if they say its restrictive, overbearing, and the water tastes like mud then you have yourself an accurate accounting."

"That bad?"

"I may be exaggerating a bit, but for me the Wardens were a big step up." Alistair beamed as his mind wandered to food and drinking contests. He could out eat them all, but nobody drank more than Gregor.

"A lifetime hunting darkspawn is a step up from a lifetime hunting mages?" The noble asked rhetorically as Alistair continued to take the conversation seriously, although with him one can never tell.

"Oh most definitely, for one thing the darkspawn don't talk at all, they just snarl, shriek, or try and tear your head off!"

"Sounds like fun."

"It's not all song and dance though, you'll have to go into places even less friendly than that swamps when you room with us." The splint mailed fighter warned as images, and especially the smells of places like the Sarn Ford came to mind.

"Ever get a trip to Orzammar or the Deep Roads?" Danson asked as he had been curious about the dwarven lands for sometime.

"Not yet, but I hear that's on our list of tour destinations after we're done here. Duncan mentioned wanting to see Proving sometime.

"Sounds like we've got a whole vacation plan ready for us... Why didn't I sign up earlier?"

"Well, between wallowing in the taint, spending an enormous amount of time on the road, and the lack of spiffy uniforms, I can't imagine why we have trouble finding recruits." Alistair wondered as he put his hand to his chin , "Don't worry though, as long as you can kill darkspawn and be trusted not to be an ass you should do fine!"

"I think I've got those areas covered." Danson assured with a small smile, as the two then simply stood and listened to the prayers and sermons before the battle. The calm before the storm.

* * *

Could it really be, could this really be happening? Could a part of her life before the Circle be here? It just seemed like too much of a coincidence to be true. Tabris: that was the surname of her cousins in the alienage. Could this Estel be someone from that life she was pulled from by her magic. It was hard to remember the Denerim alienage of her childhood, and most of what she did remember wasn't the kind of things anyone would cherish in their heart. Discrimination, poverty, lawlessness, all the trappings of a slum you could find in nearly any city in Thedas. In comparison her accommodations in the tower were an Orlesian palace.

Still, the alienage was her home once upon a time, and amidst the few memories she had there were a few good ones too. She wouldn't have traded that place for the tower any day if she had been given the choice. But she wasn't given a choice, because the Maker saw fit to give her magic. What would her life have been if she didn't throw that wisp of fire at that guard all those years ago. Would she just be another alienage elf struggling to survive. Would the Grey Wardens just be a story of shemlen warriors, instead of her comrades in arms?

There wasn't much time to think about that as Luthien caught the sight of the elf she was looking for haggling with the quartermaster over some random supplies.

"15 silvers and that's my final offer!" The rather burly man declared as his customer shook her head

"No way ya blood sucking parasite! These lifestones are cracked in a thousand places and as small as pebbles! Do you really expect me to pay at that price!?" Estel yelled as she gestured to the red rocks in front of her that looked somewhat substandard.

"Well they're what I've got so you either take em at 15 or leave!"

"I'll pay 12 slivers and no more!" Estel barked as she laid the twelve silvers in question on the table

"I have to make a profit girl!" The quartermaster protested "It takes coin to ship these things all the way to the frontlines. Now 14 silvers is the lowest I can go!"

"Make it 13, and I'll take you up on that." The city elf offered as she rolled one more coin onto the table making it clear with her eyes that was the last one she would take out.

The human merchant grumbled as he thrust the 13 coins into his pocket and Estel smiled as she took the lifestones away into her back. While the man was grumbling and had his back turned Estel also took the chance to swipe some flasks and vials filled with questionable goods, before she noticed Luthien staring at her with her "liberated merchandise".

"Hey! I didn't see you there! Fancy meeting you out here. This isn't what it... Maker who am I kidding you saw the whole thing didn't you?" The Denerim native stammered as she dropped some of the items and had to scramble to pick them back up.

"I did and don't' worry about it, Grey Wardens use a variety of skills and talents. Duncan told me once, if you're a worthy and skilled, and you don't get caught you should be fine." Luthien grinned as Estel visibly relaxed.

"*Phew* Thank goodness for that! I don't like to play into the shemlen serotype of us elves being unrepentant thieves but you do what you have to do to get by, and maybe have a little extra on the side, am I right?"

"I know the feeling, I lived in an alienage before I got sent to the Circle. I understand, it's a hard life."

"Oh really?" Estel asked raising her eyebrows in surprise, "Thought you mages are all taken to the tower when you're babies?"

"Not exactly, some of us don't discover our magic that young, sometimes it happens later when we've actually had time to form memories of what life is like outside the tower." The mage explained as thoughts were running a thousand miles an hour in her head.

"That's, interesting..." The red headed elf mused as she noticed the mage a bit more examining her as if to find something familiar. In Estel's mind the years rolled to a day she'd never forget.

_Flashes of metal men with covered eyes and threatening swords came to mind. A plant covered entirely in ice served as the only evidence of supernatural power, but it was enough. A crying mother, begging them not to take her daughter, a father angrily shouting at Haharen Valendriam to do something. A little girl was being taken from her home by the templars and the whole place was in an uproar. They were losing a member of the family._

"Farmboy- I mean Arnor told me your name's, well your family name's Tabris right?"

"That's the last name I was born with, yeah."

Luthien wasn't sure how to go further into the topic. How can you pick up the pieces of a life you barely remember? "You used to always pretend to be Garahel fighting the Archdemon, I think?"

The city elf cocked her head to the side and gave the other elf a look that sent shivers up her spine. Estel also nervously fingered her daggers wondering if this girl was something that any sane person feared as she asked.

"How do you know that?"

"I...um. I'm not a blood mage! I would never go into people's minds or anything like that, but... and I know this sounds crazy! But I'm wondering, does the name Luthien Surana mean anything to you?" The mage finally spat out as she nervously took great interest in the color and consistency of the dirt.

A pregnant pause loomed over the two as the elven rogue studied the mage closely. Noting the brown hair and emerald eyes which seemed an erie copy of her own.

"Little Lucy?" Estel fumbled out as if she hadn't said those words in a lifetime.

"Wha-"

Before the two could continue on the conversation a clear horn rang throughout the valley signaling the time for battle was upon them. Hastily Luthien scampered away surprisingly fast given her choice of robes. Leaving Estel bewildered and left to meet Alistair and the others at the Tower of Ishal. Both were left with a sense of mystery as one wondered if it could really be the little prodigal cousin, and the other if she really did have a family besides the one in her dreams.


	8. And Should You Perish

Hearing the battle horn ring just a few minutes ago Arnor found himself wondering where Luthien was as he checked and doubled checked his pack. As he dug through the many potions and poultices he swore quietly as he noticed he the treaties sitting at the bottom of the bag. He would just have to give them to Duncan later after the battle. His rummaging was interrupted by the appearance of Luthien who looked like she had just seen a ghost.

"You alright?" The ranger asked, as he slung his pack over his shoulder in preparation to leave.

"M' fine. Let's just get going." The elf muttered as she simply continued on towards the battlefield.

"As you wish." Arnor replied, deciding not to force the issue before something like a life or death battle.

The two walked at a brisk pace as they headed for the front lines. The extreme noise of the preparations for battle made talking difficult anyway. They found Duncan at the head of the column with the bulk of the Grey Wardens. Arnor tried to give Duncan the treaties but the commander said there was no time and he had no place to keep them. The two junior Wardens were then were given instructions to shore up the left flank, and it was there they stood among the troops.

Many a warrior will tell you that the hardest part about a battle is waiting on the edge of it. You know it's coming, you know what's going to happen when the battle truly starts, and your heart pounds like a parade drum. Such was the feeling Arnor had in his chest as he waited for the darkspawn to reveal themselves through that veil of darkness and trees. He could feel the number and presence of the darkspawn throughout the entirety of the valley and much of the valley as well. Still there was no visual sign of the darkspawn. Arnor turned his head to look at Luthien, clutching her staff tightly and breathing evenly as she gave him a good-natured smile as he grinned back. She too could feel the incoming horde, although her sense didn't quite have the range and accuracy his did.

"Forty two." Luthien blurted out breaking the silence between them.

"That's impossible!" Arnor accused almost instinctually, "You couldn't have gotten that many! That puts you above Gregor!"

"I am a mage you know." She reminded as rains began to lightly fall on both the assembled armies "You shouldn't be so surprised, and how many do you have counting? Eighteen? Fifteen?"

"Twenty seven thank you very much." Arnor responded curtly as he began to twang his bowstring in anticipation. "We'll see how much longer your streak holds."

"You gotta be there to see it get past you and Alistair combined, so stay alive shem, you hear?"

"Only if you promise to do the same knife ear! Just you wait, I've got a good feeling about tonight!" The ranger responded half heartedly trying to match his comrade's confidence.

The banter was interrupted as a screech the Wardens knew all too well was raised into the air. Time seemed to slow down for Arnor as his sense went into overdrive, thousands upon thousands of darkspawn were upon them melting out of the trees in endless waves as they approached the battle lines. Arnor turn turned his head to the left and saw a young man, barely above boyhood trembling in his armor even as he held onto a large greatsword.

"M...m... Maker!" he stammered as the horde marched just out of bowshot towards the army

"Nervous soldier?" Arnor asked as he felt his brain wracking trying to register the taint all around him.

"Look at that! What chance do we have?" The raven haired boy asked, not even turning his gaze from the horde, as the marching could be heard now. Heavy footsteps in the murky mud in a *clomp thump thud*

"Have hope soldier, lose hope, you lose everything." Arnor reassured as his own doubts began to multiply. "What's your name?"

"Carver," The warrior stammered "Carver Hawke. I'm fighting here because the Bann needed troops, and my brother and sister couldn't come here. Why in Andraste's name did I sign up? Why didn't I just stay in Lothering?"

"Well, Carver from Lothering, let me offer you a piece of advice. "Swallow your fear, and if you have to, barf it back out at the enemy." Darkspawn hate vomit."

"How would you-" Carver began before turning to look at Arnor and seeing the griffon symbol, "You're... you're a..."

"That be true, so stay strong Hawke, today is a day of destiny and fate of many will be decided in this place."

"Yes ser." Carver answered as he dropped his helm over his face

The next sound everyone heard was the roar of a hurlock general as the horde suddenly broke into a run to close the distance between the two armies.

A command went out from the king and then suddenly the skies were filled with fire as arrows rained down from the Ferelden lines. Volley after volley went into the horde killing scores of the beasts, but the tide just seemed to get larger as the order to release the mabari war hounds called hundreds of trained killing machines on the monsters. Flesh, bone, and crude armor were torn to bits as the mighty beasts leaped onto darkspawn and tore at the enemy with no mercy. Despite their ferocity, it seemed like they too were absorbed into the tide of rushing darkspawn and were killed by the sheer number of the creatures that were undeterred by the challenge of launching an attack uphill on a defensible position.

Here brave men and women stood. Many of them veterans of war and of King Maric's campaign to drive out Orlais from Ferelden. Most of those here were no strangers to bloodshed. But now in this grand battle and final showdown even the hardiest of the warriors felt chills run up their spines. For the initial skirmishes were fought mainly with small scouting and raiding parties that gradually became battles. This was it, this was two armies. One of men, one of monsters. Only one would walk away.

And now rocks of fire and bolts of steel were being exchanged as ballista bolts skewered rows of darkspawn and chunks of stone launched from darkspawn siege weapons shattered the already crumbling structure. Where the darkspawn get weapons of war such as this is anyone's guess. What cannot be guessed at is their effectiveness, as some men were lucky enough to be simply crushed by the projectiles or the pieces of stone that fell from the towers, if such fates can be called luck. Others less fortunate, found themselves burned alive as they were roasted even as water and lightning fell from the sky. Despite this, a loud and clear horn sounded in the valley as a mix of a cheer, a yell, and holler went up from the Ferelden lines as the king's army charged at enemy.

Sharing a look with Luthien who grinned with a ball of fire resting in her hands, Arnor turned to face the enemy and drew his sword charging into the fray along with the others on the field. The fight was pure chaos, this war far different from the wilderness where there was room maneuver, or the corridors of Castle Cousland where being flanked was a non-issue. Here the fight was crowded and exposed at the same time as his Warden senses were pretty much all that was keeping him alive. Like a siren in his ears, it alerted him to the darkspawn close enough to strike when his eyes could not and he used this to great effect. The Edain blade also burned with fire as a spell from Luthien ensured that any darkspawn would find their death soon. "Immolabitque eam igni" was the old Tevinter adage "Kill it with fire."

First a hurlock came up to him with a wild swing using a substandard claymore. Arnor parried first and then stabbed, running the beast through before kicking the body off the blade. Two Genlocks then ran towards him forcing him to step back and block two strikes in rapid succession. Quick slices across their bodies added two to his count. The rest of the monsters were now keeping their distance from him, afraid of the flaming sword and it's wielder. Quickly tucking the sword back in its scarbad Arnor rolled backwards to help create more distance and drew on his longbow.

_Nock, aim, fire, nock, aim, fire_

Again and again as one, then two, then three hurlocks lay dead from his arrows. Now seeing that they weren't safe up close and they weren't safe from afar and the darkspawn decided to close in. Maybe if they swarmed him in melee combat the Warden would fall eventually. But it was not to be, as swing decapitated a hurlock wielding a battle axe and thrust ran a charging genlock through its belly. A few parrys made gaps in the defenses of other attacking darkspawn and they were felled with stab wounds in the chest.

Body after body began to pile around him, as several enemies, but also a worrying number of humans decorated the damp soil. Resolved still to fight all the harder he bashed and then decapitated another genlock before turning his attention to his allies for a brief moment.

Luthien was doing well and struggling at the same time. The large groups gave her an ample chance to send fireballs into their lines, but the risk of friendly fire kept her cautious of doing so at her leisure. She wasn't in any great danger though, as whenever a darkspawn got within a sword's range they were stunned with a powerful mind blast and a jet of flame for their troubles. All around her charred and frozen corpses lay in groups, and Arnor could just imagine how much she was going to brag about her count going up at least past sixty. Walking bombs were now starting to enter the field as he could feel the explosion the corpses produced, killing anyone too close, and knocking down anyone close enough.

It was then she locked eyes with an enemy mage, a genlock emissary flinging fireballs into the Ferledan lines. Hoping to cut off its firepower Luthien cast a spell to direct mana from the genlock into her own system. Feeling the energy flow back to her veins she shot a bolt of lightning to the diminutive darkspawn too late as it raised a shield of spirit energy to block the primal spell. Undeterred Luthien bust a jet of flame into the emissary's general direction who countered with a cone of cold. For a brief moment the two spellcasters were locked in a duel of mana. Whoever expended the most while still maintaining focus would triumph and dictate the course of the duel. Matter and mind strained as both parties put more and more energy into the spells. The massive battle raging around them seemed to be of little importance to the two mages as their lives hinged on the outcome of this clash.

The teachings of the Circle won out over the savagery of the darkspawn though, and the burst of fire consumed the genlock who caught fire before her eyes. The amount of mana expended took a toll on the elf who let down her guard for one moment, and one moment was all one hurlock needed to get into melee distance for a killing blow. Seconds turned into hours as Luthien struggled to build up the energy needed to kill the monster before killed her. It wouldn't be in time though as just as she felt the lightning come to her fingertips the darkspawn was already bringing it's blade downwards.

Before it could find it's mark the tainted blade and it's wielder were pierced by two arrows. One to the arm and the other two the head as Arnor nocked another arrow and fired it straight into the creature's heart. No time for thank yous however, as a trio of genlocks advanced on the ranger just as he began to unsheath his sword. Finding that the lighting sparks still lingered on her fingertips Luthien arced them at the genlocks who were fried inside their armor.

Young master Hawke was doing as well as a soldier fresh off a farm could expect. The boy had spirit and had evidently been trained in combat, but he was still green and was on the defensive against the foes he was facing. A multitude of genlocks seemed to spring up around him and Carver could only groan in frustration as he once again brought up his greatsword to block strikes from the dwarf sized creatures. He found his rhythm soon enough his greatsword found genlock heads.

As combat in the left flank surged back and forth, from quick lulls in the actions to a few terrifying minutes of ferocious fighting; the center of the Ferelden Army found itself facing a constant tide of enemies. Thousands of genlocks crashed against the kite shields of the men-at-arms who nearly buckled under the force of the attack. The battle started to become more and more condensed as the King's Army fell back on itself, counter attacked, fell back again, then with the Cailin and Duncan at it's head began to make a strong movement back against the darkspawn. Even with the king inspiring his troops from the front, it was clear to everyone down there that without the beacon lit and the Teyrn's support, they were all going to die down there.

* * *

"Let's just let to the Tower of Ishal, Duncan and the others are counting on us to light that beacon!" Alistair reminded as his small group ran quickly across a bridge dogging flaming rocks as they could see and hear the battle raging below them.

"Watch out!" Danson shouted pushing Estel and Turgon as Hume leaped onto Alistair forcing him to the ground.

Seconds later a massive stone piece embedded itself in the bridge they were standing on and the impact killed several men using it as an archery vantage point.

With that close scrape with death out the way the Tower of Ishal and its beacon loomed above them. Something was wrong though. The spawn were all supposed to be in the valley below them fighting the army. So why could the Wardens feel evil in that tower?

Their worst fears were confirmed as a two soldiers stumbled out the door covered with blood both red and black. One was wounded and leaned on the other

"Andraste protect us, they're everywhere!" One of them screamed as his comrade made no sound and simply stared at the Wardens as if in shock.

"What's going on man? What's happening in that tower?" Alistair asked despite knowing in his gut what was happening

"The darkspawn *arg* came up from the tunnels under the tower. Swarmed up and just started killing everyone! I don't think anyone's alive in there..." The panicky man struggled to say while still supporting the other.

"That doesn't mean we don't still have a job to do!" Danson argued as he rushed through the doors eager for combat with the darkspawn.

Hoping to prevent his untimely death the others rushed in after him to find multiple darkspawn corpses riddling the floor as more and more of the beasts kept pouring into the room. Danson was good, but he wouldn't survive long without support. Hume immediately leapt to his master's side tearing through a genlock rogue in the process. Happy to see his oldest remaining companion at his side again, Danson continued to wreak havoc on the darkspawn as a silent, tranquil, fury mixed with adrenaline made him a dangerous killing machine as even the Highever shield was used to cut through the flesh of enemies.

"The shelem certainly like to make the rooms big," Turgon thought as he shot arrow after arrow into the heads of hurlocks scattered around the very spacious building. Unlike Danson's silence which masked rage, Turgon truly held a mind of calm. In the heat of battle it was easy to lose yourself in the rage, the bloodlust, the emotions of the fight, but to aim and fire quickly and accurately you need to keep a clear head. This seemed to be vindicatied as Turgon breathed a satisfied sigh as the number of dead darkspawn at his feet corresponded perfectly to the number of arrows in his quiver.

Estel was the wind whipping around the island of calm and the sea of rage. Combat skill she had shown in the swamp now appearing again as two daggers slit throats and cut into the backs of unsuspecting darkspawn. Blood flowed freely around her just as it did in the Arl of Denerim's estate only here the blood was black and burning. To her though it didn't matter what color the blood was, nothing could be darker than the hearts of the men she gutted. These were just more wild dogs to be put down.

Alistair was beginning to realize what exactly Duncan saw in these people. They were fighters first and foremost. Each deadly in their craft and forces to be reckoned with on the battlefield, but each seemed to be weighed down with ghosts from their past. The former templar hoped that Duncan would be able to iron out these issues afterwards. If any of them survived this mess anyhow. He himself fought off the beasts with the Oathkeeper from his templar days. Chantry steel cutting through armor forged in the Deep Roads.

As more and more of the darkspawn continued to rush into the main chamber Alistair realized that despite these new Wardens' skills they were going to be overwhelmed. Turgon ran out of arrows and was now fighting alongside Danson with a curved shortsword Alistair could only guess was of Dalish origin, and Estel was running out of shadows to strike from as angry genlocks began to practically spill into the hall.

"We have to get higher up!" Alistair yelled over the chaos, "We can't fight all these darkspawn, we have to get to the beacon!"

"You three go on ahead!" Danson replied as he cut down a charging hurlock. "I can handle this!"

"Don't be an idiot, this is no time for heroics!" Estel shouted as she and Turgon made their way to Alistair and the staircase leading to the tower.

With hesitation Danson struck down one last hurlock before running to the staircase where the rest of the party was waiting for him. With covering fire from Turgon he and Hume made it relatively safe before Estel tossed down several acid flasks she had made during the preparation before the battle. With city elves not officially allowed to carry weapons it was unconventional poisons and bombs that sometimes had to get the job done.

Upon entering the second floor they were greeted by a party of hurlocks and genlocks, led by an alpha who tried to bring his battleaxe down upon the head of one Danson Cousland. The savage strike was blocked by the laurel leaf shield and was pushed off with great effort and no small amount of pain. The others made an effort to flank the noble, but they didn't count on his allies.

Turgon found these quarters too close for archery and drew on his shortsword. While his preferred method of dispensing death was the bow, to be a hunter in a Dalish clan skill in the blade is not something to be neglected. His moved his sword quickly to avoid losing an arm and took the blade clean away from the offending genlock. Now without a weapon the monster was vulnerable to a quick blow across the chest that sent it back to the void.

The few survivors of mabari attacks say that you haven't really experienced pain until you've had a war hound latch its powerful teeth into your skin. While we know little of darkspawn anatomy, as any contact, prolonged or otherwise can result in tainting. However, any doubts that the darkspawn can feel pain were dispelled as an unlucky hurlock let out a roar of anguish when Hume pounced on it and sank his teeth into the darkspawn's chest.

Alistair took a different approach to the situation, as he had neither jaws or hands with sufficient strength to do the damage necessary for battle. So he had to make do with his sword as shield as a downward slash from a shambling hurlock rattled against his wooden barrier. There was no time to counter though as a genlock leaped seemingly out of nowhere to strike him with a bloody dagger.

That might have been his end if not for a knife that shot out from Estel, pinning the rogue to the wall. With her prey incapacitated Estel stabbed the cornered beast in the heart while Alistair dispatched the

Danson on the other hand, swung again and again at the alpha who seemed to shrug off every assault and counter with force that would break a normal man's shield arm. Nothing seemed to phase the Cousland though, it seemed that the world was nothing but battle and his adrenaline stores gave him strength beyond anything he'd felt before. Again a strike from the alpha rang against the shield. Anyone normal person would have felt their arm straining against the blow, and be in debilitating pain.

But Danson was not just any man, and he pushed back against the weapon and found the opening to cut the alpha's right arm off with a solid swing. Blood spurt out from the gaping wound, but the mad beast still fought and stuck Danson with the pommel of the heavy weapon. Stumbling back for a brief moment the Cousland could see the alpha wielding the two handed axe with it's remaining arm.

It tried for a sweeping blow underneath the warrior's feet, in response The Cousland stratified backwards to avoid the clumsy swing. Even with the creature's missing limb it still swung the weapon with power and ferocity. Wasting no time, Danson moved forward once again and lopped off the hurlock's remaining arm. Somehow the the monster still stood and tried to ram Danson with its horned helmet. With a slightly amused grin the noble easily sidestepped the sloppily executed attack and removed the alpha's legs as well killing it finally.

With the party of darkspawn dispatched the group now could hear the rumbling of stone as the darkspawn continued to fill into the tower from the tunnels beneath. To slow their progress the weapon of choice was the many caged war dogs that were released by Turgon, and the barrels of grease that were spilled lit by Estel on their as they fought their way through the third floor and onto the fourth.

The Wardens reached the top of the tower only to find it a veritable mess of blood, bones, and bodies, and in the center of it, an ogre. Largest and fiercest of the many breeds of the monsters. The horned killing machine briefly looked up from it feast of corpses with its mouth still covered in drool. Letting out a roar that out certainly must've been heard by the troops down below the beast charged, attempting to flatten the Wardens into paste on the stones.

Turgon recovered the fastest having had similar experiences fighting wild boars. He wasted no time in firing what few arrows he had collected from the deceased Fereldan troops, but they seemed to do no good. Each arrow seemed to at most annoy the creature, at worst they simply bounced off the thing's pale hide. The others unused to such quick maneuvers were still getting up on their feet. Turgon had to keep the beast distracted.

Taking notice of the elf shooting point sticks at it, the ogre took a massive chunk of stone in its hand. Lifting the masonry high above its head it hurled the Tevinter architecture at the Dalish elf. Turgon jumped out of the way quickly, but not quick enough. The impact of the stone on the floor sent him flying towards the far side of the chamber hitting some barrels with a thud.

Seeing their comrade incapacitated the two human warriors leaped back into the fray. They along with Hume made quick slashing attacks, trying to keep the beast from focusing on any one opponent. If it could, they would be dead. The multiple attackers didn't matter though, as the great monstrosity swept them all aside with its bare hands. The force of the impact knocked them back towards across the the tower floor. With the loss of footing and balance they were vulnerable as the living siege weapon thrust its head forward for another ramming attack.

Instead of meeting the flesh and steel of the warriors though, the horns of the beast were met with burning acid as Estel threw the last of her grenades at the ogre. The corrosive substance burned through the corrupted ivory of horns, leaving them half melted and dripping with a toxic substance. The ogre roared out in pain and rage as it moved to grab the pesky elf rolled between the ogre's legs and slashed them as she popped back up behind the monster.

Hume took this chance to latch onto the meaty outstretched fingers of the ogre and clamped down with his powerful jaws. Roaring in anguish the ogre swung its arm back and forth in an attempt to shake off the warhound. To no avail however, as the Tevinter Magisters had evidently breed the jaws of the Mabari with bone crushing force, and the strength to stay there.

It was at this moment feeling and awareness came back to Turgon as he saw Estel dogging wild strikes of the ogre's free arm, and Danson and Alistair getting back up to their feet for another attack. Refusing to be a non-factor in the fight, Turgon narrowed his eyes as he lined up a shot that for all intents and purposes should have been impossible. Taking a deep breath as he drew back his bow, he slowly sidestepped to get the best angle on his target. While the other three Wardens kept their distance to avoid the flailing arms, Turgon focused for the briefest moment, calculating distance and the wild erratic movement of the monster while uttering a prayer to Anduril. And let fly.

The arrow struck the creature dead in the eye socket causing it to try and stoop to the bleeding using its free hand. Now was the chance the Wardens were waiting for. Danson and Alistair attacked one with unrestrained fury and one with refined discipline. Danson's blade cut across the ogre's chest but did not fell him as the groan it let out indicated life was still in the monstrosity. Estel now behind the ogre leaped onto its back and stabbed several times but was forced off when the wild flailing sent her tumbling to the floor.

Alistair decided it was now or never and struck the ogre with a glancing slash opening it up for an attack. Lifting off the ground, Alistair drove his sword into the heart of the ogre. Relinging on his heavy armor, weight, and strength to work with gravity he forced the giant to the floor. As it lay prone on the ground the Warden removed his blade from the beast's chest and plunged it into its head. He forced the sword own until he heard it hit stone and held it there

"Not bad templar!" Danson complimented as he tried to take in as much air as possible in short shallow breaths.

Looking around it seemed to Alistair that everybody was still alive, although he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and Turgon looked ready to collapse at any moment. Estel for the most part looked relatively unharmed, but compared to the assembled . The tending of injuries would have to wait though, using one of the torches still lit in the chamber the four Wardens lit the beacon and hoped for a miracle as they could hear the darkspawn rushing up the stairs.

* * *

"Sound, the retreat." Loghain commanded as he saw the light from the beacon clear as day amid the storm of the evening.

_What?_

She misheard that, didn't she? Just her daydreaming in the middle of a raging storm and a violent battle. No, that wasn't possible, her eyes were wide open and her mind totally alert. So why did she think she didn't hear what she'd just be told. Maybe it was because it was betrayal, maybe it was due to the noise and confusion of a battlefield, or maybe it was because she didn't want to believe her hero would give the order to abandon an entire army to the darkspawn.

"But what about the king? The Wardens? Shouldn't we-"

"You will do as I command Cauthrien!" Loghain roared as he snatched her hand with a scowl plastered on his face.

_But that's your son-in-law down there! And countless banns and knights!_

"As you wish..." Cauthrien relented as she turned to the troops assembled behind her, "Pull out all of you! Lets move!"

The knight turned to look back at her savior, who simply stared at the lit beacon. The die had been cast, Maker only knew what would happen once they got back to Denerim. Doubt? Accusations of treason? What sort of consequences would this action have? Catherin only knew it would not be pleasant. With the fires burning below them the army of Gwaren left the royal army to their fate.

* * *

Things were truly desperate now. While the initial counterattack had done well, the sheer number of enemies had forced the king's men into a narrow passage in front of the shattered gates of the fortress. The spawn still had to climb upwards to face a wall of determined Fereldens, but they were pushing hard and with superior numbers. If this continued the line would stop bending back on itself and break. If it did, there would be nothing to stop the darkspawn from killing everyone in that ravine.

Arnor and Luthien found themselves in the front of the fighting. Even with many of their fellow Wardens dead around them, they still continued to struggle against the monsters as Arnor cut down his fortieth-ninth darkspawn while Luthien sent another walking bomb into the darkspawn lines. Surprisingly even Carver let lived, with his greatsword and armor covered in burning blood.

With difficulty Arnor made his way to the center of the Ferelden lines and met up with Duncan who seemed to be the only other Warden left save Luthien. While corpses by the dozen lay at his feet more and more of the darkspawn charged each and every time and it was clear it would not be long before even he was overwhelmed.

This couldn't be happening. They were supposed to win. They were supposed to defeat the darkspawn army and then find and slay the archdemon. They were supposed to get reinforcements.

"Duncan what's going on?" He managed to ask over the sound of battle while shooting a hurlock in the chest. "Where are the Teyrn's troops?"

"It seems Loghain has quit the field." Duncan informed as he looked to the tower with it's signal lit up like a Nevarran candle

"What? Why would the Teyrn abandon us? Abandon the king?"

"I don't know my friend, but it seems we are on our own."

"Don't worry, we'll get out of here, and when we do we'll burn that son-of-a-bitch!" Luthien promised as she sent a jet of flame towards a group of approaching enemies.

"What do we do commander? We can't hold out forever." Arnor asked as he observed the battle raging around him.

Questions like those would have to wait as he saw an ogre barrel through the Ferelden lines crushing men and women under it's feet. It tossed stones into the mass of soldiers killing scores of them and knocking many of them aside. The two junior Wardens split off in opposite directions while Duncan tried to block the ogre from approaching the king.

It was in vain though, as Duncan was batted aside like ragdoll by the ogre. The king saw the creature all too late as his attempt to strike the beast with his great sword only ended with him in the ogre's grasp. A terrible roar ushered forth from the monster as it crushed the king in its hands and tossed the body out into the field for all the troops to see. The junior Wardens could only watch in horror as the as the king lay in a pool of his own blood for all the troops to see. Duncan on the other hand was not so paralyzed.

Summoning strength and bravery rarely seen in any human, elf, or dwarf, he charged the ogre headlong. Jumping onto the beast's chest, and stabbing it it the chest with dual daggers. There was no time to marvel though, as Duncan soon found himself clutching his side in agony. Apparently the ogre's attack had done more damage than initially thought. The embittered commander soon found his own blood mixing with that the of the darkspawn as the wound began to bleed profusely. Arnor and Luthien quickly rushed to his side and instinctively took out bandages and summoned forth healing magic. Duncan raised his hand in opposition though as he struggled to speak with cracked ribs.

"No... It's not worth your trouble. I've seen death wounds before, and this certainly qualifies." Duncan said trying to bring a bit of lightheartedness into that last part.

"Don't you go around saying that or I'll start to believe you." Luthien chastised, not finding any humor in this situation "Arnor help me using those bandages now! We're getting him out of here!"

"If you two try to save me you'll have no chance of escaping." The Warden Commander reasoned.

"Damnit Duncan, we won't leave you here to the darkspawn!" Arnor protested as his commander gave a look of sad resignation mixed with grim determination.

"It's no use Arnor. You two must leave this place alive. Do you understand? That is my last order for you."

"No! No! The Teyrn's just delayed a bit! Maybe he didn't see the signal... Maybe his troops are still on the way!" Arnor tried to rationalize as he tried to wrap up the wounds that just wouldn't stop bleeding. How could the Hero of River Dane abandon the King? It just didn't make sense.

"Even if that were the case, it is too late. You must leave before this fortress becomes your tomb."

"Commander... We'll bring Loghain to justice for this! He won't get away with it!" Luthien promised as Arnor could only nod in agreement. Again Luthien had lost a mentor to betrayal, but it was simpler this time. This time she could blame someone other than herself for losing a person she respected. This time she could do something.

"Good..." Duncan managed say as his breath grew short and the color drained from his face "But remember your first duty is to end the Blight. In war victory."

"In peace vigilance..." Luthien continued primarily out of habit.

"And in death sacrifice." Arnor finished for her as the fires and carnage raged around them.

"The Fereldan Wardens must not end here. Without the Grey Wardens there is no way to stop this Blight before it engulfs this land. If it isn't stopped here Ferelden will become a staging ground for an attack on the rest of Thedas, and if it comes to that it may already be too late."

"We understand..." Arnor choked out as Luthien muttered a prayer she learned from a chantry sister a long time ago. "We won't fail you."

"I know you won't." Duncan said as he smiled with both sadness and pride. "Maker watch over you."

As the blood flowed around them like an endless river Arnor made a snap decision. Scanning his eyes over the battle he found the body of the king. The young man's golden armor was tarnished by the blood it lay in, but still visible in the darkness was the instrument that might help save some lives. A white battle horn engraved with old Almarri script and drawings, most likely an old heirloom of the Calenhad Kings.

Ripping it from the lad's corpse after muttering an apology Arnor blew two quick, sharp notes on the horn. The Fereldan signal for a retreat. Standing upon a fallen stone the Warden sounded out the notes again. Echoing through the hills and reaching the ears of the soldiers that remained.

"Run! Retreat!" Arnor yelled at the top of his lungs in between the notes. "Make for the hills! Retreat!"

But it was too late. The damage had been done. Officers were falling like the leaves of late autumn and most of the soldiers that tried to retreat were cut down as they ran in disorganized packs. Archers and something else, something new was cutting down the fleeing men. Upon dark beasts that may have once been horses, hurlocks with crude lances and sabres rode. It was like someone had tried to make a dark mocky of a horse as they appeared in a ghastly black color that gave the appearance of ghoulhood. In the place of a mane of fur spikes of bone jutted out from the horse's head, and the stallion's red eyes were filled with murder. It was a Blight rider, the Warden minted nickname for those darkspawn which caught and tainted the beasts of burden.

One of the blight riders brought his steed about and charged at Arnor with his lance aimed to take the ranger's head off. Dodding to the left Arnor plucked an arrow out of the corpse of a genlock and fired an arrow at the mounted soldier who was flung from his steed. Breathing a sigh of relief for a moment, the ranger scanned the battlefield and found that unless something drastic happened everyone would be overtaken by the sheer numbers of the horde. Arnor turned to the elf who was currently launching a fireball into the darkspawn masses.

"Luthien, collapse the bridge! Stonefist the supports!" Arnor yelled as the tide of darkspawn grew closer and closer.

"What! Are you insane?" The mage replied as she surveyed the task laid out for her. "That could kill us all!"

"It's the only way to stop the horde from overrunning us all! You have to bring it down!"

"If we live through this..."

"No time for argument, just do it!" He begged as he saw darkspawn begin to flood into the narrow pass that formed the front of the fortress.

Realizing there was nothing else that could be done, Luthien drank a lyrium potion and focused as much nature power as she could into her staff. Two large fists of pure granite raced towards the ends of the bridge that ran over the span of the pass. Normally it would've taken far more force than one mage could muster to collapse this bride, but the darkspawn siege engines had been battering away at structure for some time. It just needed this final push to assure destruction. With a loud crash, stone smashed against stone and chunks of rock came crashing down onto the battlefield. But the plan had the intended effect, massive chunks of Tevinter arcurtencrure turned darkspawn into paste and held back the main body of the horde.

As the stones fell and the darkspawn past the bridge continued their killing spree, Arnor trumpeted the retreat once more as men tried to flee into the hills. Arnor saw that the effort to knock down the bridge had taken a toll on Luthien who nearly fell to the ground before the ranger picked her up off the ground and supported her on his shoulder.

"Get up on your feet knife ears, we'll live through this yet!"

"I'm slowing you down farmboy, you'd have a better chance without me. I'll buy you time to-"

"I think the Wardens have used up all their heroic sacrifices, you lined up too late!" Arnor shot back as his skull started to pound and his ears were filled with the sound of clomping hooves.

Two riders with sabres were rounding on the two Wardens, and with both exhausted and out of ranged attacks their options were limited. To their surprise Duncan seemed to have some life in him yet as he got back up on his feet just in time to pull one of the riders of his steed and took the mount for himself.

"Go! Now!" Duncan cried before he pulled hard on the tainted horse's reins and slammed the beast into the other rider sending them both flying. Duncan got back up first and stabbed the hurlock in the heart and pulled his sword out before collapsing to his knees again.

Not able to bear witnessing his commander's final moments, Arnor dragged a protesting Luthien to the relative safety of the treeline of the hills. All around them screams of dying men filled the air as some tried to flee in terror while others were cut down in the rout. Most of the men and women found themselves decorating a darkspawn spear as a few of their comrades managed to melt away into the hills.

Turning his glance for just one moment Arnor looked back at the beacon. Lit like a Nevarran candle, clear to anyone who was supposed to wait for that signal. Alistair and the others succeeded, but why hadn't the Teyrn followed through? He couldn't think about that now, as his priority was to keep both him and Luthien alive. Maker only knows if anyone else did, or could've made it out of that hell hole.

* * *

Meanwhile the Wardens at the tower had their own problems. While the beacon was lit there was no way of getting down without fighting more darkspawn than they could hope to defeat. They'd barricaded the doors with all they could find in the small chamber. Even the heavy body of the ogre was considered until it became clear they'd need either cranes or magic to move it. The only thing left to do now was pray for reinforcements that probably wouldn't get there in time.

The group held their collective breath as regrets began to sink into their minds in the face of imminent death. They had accomplished their mission, but all signs seemed to point to them not living to see its fruits or lack thereof. Turgon cursed and swore while kicking a piece of fallen rock in frustration. The Dread Wolf himself must've arranged all this. Becoming tainted and losing his best friend, being taken from the clan only to be given more of the blight sickness, and now to die at the hands of monsters. Unless giant eagles or an unstoppable army of ghosts came to save him right now, he was probably doomed.

He noticed the others had similar thoughts about the situation as Estel debated with Alistair the merits of using rope to try and scale down the tower, while Danson and his Mabari simple stood at the ready. There was no fear in the man's eyes, only rage, adreniline, and aceptence of fate. The scurrying steps of the darkspawn were loud and audible now, and soon afterwards the sound of hurlocks crashing against the wood and metal could be heard.

Hume growled menacingly while his master stood stalk-still as the door groaned under immense pressure. At this point the other two Wardens had given up their plan for an impossible escape and simply held their weapons at the ready. Again a loud crash as chunks of wood flew off the door and a small hole opened up. Turgon took the chance to fire an arrow through the opening, resulting in a shriek from a dying genlock.

"Let them come!" Danson bellowed as doors strained ever more and heart and muscles ached for the rush the battle and bloodshed seemed to provide, "There is still one Cousland in Ferelden that still draws breath!"

"Get in line! The only way out of this tower is though that door, and I've got hell of a story to tell my family after this!"

"Then I say something suitably heroic..." Alistair added on as Hume barked in agreement.

Before Turgon could add a similar sentiment, the doors burst open and a hail of arrows spew forth from the opening hitting Turgon in several places. Evidently poison was coated onto the arrow tips as the elf's eyelids grew heavy and blood loss began to take its toll. Before passing out the last thing the Dalish saw was the others being swarmed over by darkspawn, and his blood gathering on the stone floor. Offering a silent prayer to Falon'Din to guide him in the Beyond, Turgon closed his eyes and fell to the ground.

* * *

Thank You to FalconHawk for being a great beta!


	9. Flight from the Fort

Fuzzy, everything so blurry. Was she moving? It didn't feel like she was lifting her feet off the ground. The feeling was like she was floating, or more likely she was being dragged. Her robes felt heavy for some reason, maybe she was wearing the winter robes that the Circle gave the mages to keep out the cold that seeped through the tower during the winters. This all felt like a dream, maybe she would wake up in her chair after falling asleep in one of Wynne's lectures. No, no she wasn't in the Circle anymore, she dedicated her life to something greater than sitting in a tower her whole life.

Wearily her eyes began to flutter open and she turned her head to see Arnor's face plastered with mud and the rains. Memories flooded back to her of the battle, the beacon, and the betrayal. Loghain had left them all to die! Left the Wardens to darkspawn! They were given up for dead! But they were still alive, at least that was something.

"Did, we get away?" Luthien choked out, her throat felt incredibly dry for some reason.

Arnor jerked his head towards her half in surprise and half in relief as he saw the mage regain lucidity.

"Yeah we did, thanks to you."

"I... Don't think I should try and do that again, at least without a bit more practice."

"You're probably right..." The other Warden agreed while his boots submerged into the swampy mud before surfacing back up again for more steps.

"Anybody else make it out?" Luthien asked as they found a small clearing with some fallen logs.

Arnor met her eyes for split second before turning his head forward again and acting like he didn't hear the question, but the silence gave her enough of an answer. "You better enough to walk yet?"

Walking, putting one foot in front of each other. Could the loss of mana and lyrium take that from a Mage? No, she'd make it through. All the times she used to tease Finn about his hatred of the outdoors came to mind now. He hated the mud, and the, rain and the walking, and the hiking and the exercising. He would've never made it as a Warden.

"Just... Give me a minute, or better yet, a potion." Luthien requested as her face continued to pale under the moonlight and lack of lyrium.

"I've got a flask or two in my pack, but I only have a pinch of dust..."

"That should be enough to make one potion, c'mon you need to sit down anyway." She noticed as she could see blood starting to seep through his gloves.

It seemed even Arnor could listen to reason, and the human Warden let up and sat down upon the rough bark of the fallen pine. While Luthien as took the chance to rest her feet for the walking Arnor rummaged through his backpack and pulled out an empty flask and a small pouch filling with a fine red sand. Lyrium dust. Luthien watched as Arnor took his waterskin from his belt and took a few sips before handing her the well worn item.

"I don't have any concentrators or distillers so you'll have to make do with water."

Screwing the top off the container, she mixed in the lyrium dust with a few sips worth of water to create the potion of choice for mages and templars. It felt like life itself was flowing back into her again. The lyrium charged the mana flowing around her and the world seemed more defined, colors seemed sharper, and her senses in general seemed to get back to their usual levels.

"You better?" The human asked as color started to come back the elf's face and he applied a minor red poultice to his scratched up arm.

"I guess." She mumbled while she leaned on her heartwood staff for support. "No, actually not better! How could you think better?! Back there, there was someone who knew something about me be before all this crap! Back there, everybody I called brother and sister died! I don't think there's room for that in the definition of 'better'!"

"No, I guess there isn't." The ranger replied under his breath.

Luthien took a harder look at the other Warden's face, and in the glimmer of the moonlight she thought she saw a stream of tears flowing down from his eyes. While it could've been just the rains. Luthien remembered Arnor's spawn sense reached a level he could sense the other Wardens distinctly. While she thought she could remember feeling something when the others fell around them, to Arnor it must've been light flickering out in the darkness. So much hope was lost there in that valley. So many chances. The chance to regain a sense of who she was before the Circle, and the chance to end the Blight and stop untold amounts of carnage.

"We a task set before us. We're still Wardens. Ostagar didn't void the oaths we swore. We promised Duncan we'd end the Blight somehow, I'm not giving that up." Arnor proclaimed while lightning streaked across the sky and rain continued to torrent down on them

"Oh and how are we going to do that?" Luthien replied kicking a rock in frustration, "You studied the past Blights with the rest of us, no archdemon has been slain without an army behind the us to help fight the horde. Our army just got wiped out, how do you plan to get a new one?"

"I don't know..."

"Our order just got wiped out! What are we supposed to do about that?"

"I don't know..."

How do you plan on getting close enough to a huge dragon?"

"I don't know! I'll think of something..." The ranger

"Well, you do that. Most of my plans to try and do anything go up in smoke."

_They'll take away everything that makes me a person Luthien! You have to help me!_

"What do you mean, 'All up in smoke?'"

_This is your chance! Run!_

"None of your business!" She yelled extremely defensively that did nothing to dissuade the

_Hard to breath, had to keep running, templars after her._

"I think it might be."

_Join us Brothers and Sisters_

"Leave me alone, I don't wanna talk!" She finally shouted while simply looked at her both puzzled and intrigued by the outburst.

_I um... I'm not a blood mage!_

"Whenever somebody says that there's a good chance they actually _need_ to talk to somebody."

"Oh and I suppose you want to hear the thrilling tale of me running for my life? I wonder if you want to hear how I blew the best chance I had in the Circle? And then you'd want to hear about how the only group of people to believe I could do something good with my powers is gone! But not before you listen to me talk about me having my hopes crushed, about having something you thought lost snatched away from you!"

"I'll listen," Arnor said with unlooked for earnesty "I'll listen to the only other Warden I've got left."

"I-I- Just- Leave me be!" Luthien glowered, this time Arnor chose not to continue speaking, and instead left to search for materials to make something of a fire.

Now along, Luthien rolled up her sleeve for as she examined the scars from the infiltration of the Tower basement. Things always seemed to go to the void as soon as they started to get good. She's made a mage and might even be given permission to leave the tower once in a blue moon, and then the templars try to make one of her best friends Tranquil. She'd passed their Harrowing, it wasn't her place to be involved with apprentices and escape attempts. That test was supposed to prove she could be trusted to stand against demons, but now faced with the possibility of losing a friend she threw all she'd worked for away.

Then she ran. Ran as fast as she could. It was all kind of a blur to her. They'd been cornered the templars were closing in. Then she couldn't remember much of anything, all that she knew was Lily and Jowan were gone, and the templars were still on the floor unconscious. So she fled as fast as she could through the doors and out onto the dock where there was still a spare boat to be had. Then it was two weeks of danger before the Wardens found her. The rest they say is history. She had a chance to find out more about her own history, but her own nervousness ruined that chance. The elf had to try to console herself knowing that after they won the battle she would get answers, she would ask the right questions and get some insight to her past.

All that was shattered to the wind by one man's inaction, and now Estel Tabris and two dozen other good Wardens were corpses in a forgotten ruin. Did the Maker like to see her suffer? They say the Maker smiles sadly on his Grey Wardens, but was that really true? Did her being an elf and a mage discount the sacrifice she had to make to fight the darkspawn? Then again it felt like the Maker and Andraste had just said 'To the void with this place'. To top off her grievances she could hear the maddening scribbling of a pencil and she turned her head to see Arnor back and hunched over writing trying to protect his book from the rains, using sporadic lightning bolts for illumination after failing to find kindling.

"Would you knock that off?"

To her surprise Arnor only turned his head in silence as a sign of recognition but there were no jokes, no barbs, no protesting as he slammed shut the red leather covers together and bound them back together with string. While often the elf wished he would stop contesting whenever she asked him to stop being annoying, did it have to be now after everything else familiar was ripped away? As he fumbled around with his backpack to stuff the journal back in Luthien noticed his eyes seemed to become wide as dinner plates as he excitedly reached for a group of yellowing papers bearing the Grey Warden seal.

"I think I've got something now." He grinned as he unfurled the papers and the rains began to soften.

In ink and blood signatures of groups long gone and a few still remaining were etched on the yellow paper. The Circle of Magi, the wandering Dalish tribes, and the Dwarves of Orzammar had all given their word that in the time of a Blight their full might would be brought to bear on the darkspawn. But a few others, less prominent but no less useful were also in included. The Ash Warriors, the Blackstone Irregulars, and even several Avvar tribes were among the allies the Wardens were afforded. Maybe there was still a chance to end this Blight before everything the two of them knew was destroyed. Maybe the sacrifices of Duncan and the others wouldn't be in vain. Maybe there was still hope.

"Dwarves, mages, mercenaries, that does sound like an army..." Arnor arruged while Luthien read of the hundreds of names, "We could try and..."

A rustling sound then went through the woods, bringing the duo to their feet and on alert. The two didn't feel the tingling sensation that came with the presence of darkspawn, but that didn't mean they were safe. The presence must be human, most likely a scout from the Teyrn's army. If he was willing to abandon them and the king who knew what they would do to the survivors? There was only only one arrow left in Arnor's quiver, and Luthien only enough energy for a single arcane bolt. But if they were going down, they weren't going down without a fight.

As soon as Arnor brought his bowstring to draw length and the sound of the string straining filled the trees a desperate plea reached the two from the direction of the newcomer.

"Don't shoot! Maker's mercy don't shoot!"

The voice was young, and slightly familiar at to least Arnor, who lowered his bow and gestured for Luthien to put down her staff. But not before she threw him a questioning glance and she had to settle for a shrug from the only other active Warden. More rustling as a lone figure rapidly approached the firelight. He was adorned in the heavy armor of a Ferelan man-at-arms which was tore and cut up in several places, with his face obscured by a heavy helm now coated with blood and grime. The lad threw off his head guard revealing the raven hair and boyish face of one Carver Hawke, who gazed upon the Wardens before him with both a sense of wonder and disbelief.

"You?!" Arnor puzzle as the warrior flopped down on the fallen log and took in several shallow breaths.

"You're that... Warden. Aren't..." The boy managed to wheeze before he collapsed unconscious.

Before the lad could hit the ground with a thud, Arnor caught him and laid him down on the ground. Neither of them were really healers or medics, but they knew enough. Luthien reached out with creation energy while Arnor scavenged around for some elfroot to help patch over the boy's wounds. Luthien could feel the energy draining from her body, the minor lyrium potion's mana gave her a quick fix, but for a task of this difficulty most wouldn't have tried with how much mana she had to work with. But Ms. Surana wasn't most mages, she was a Grey Warden, and if she could help it another person would not suffer because she failed.

With the energy of the Fade Luthien got to work closing the major bleeding cuts that could potentially be life threatening. She didn't have the energy to close them all completely, but the soldier would live. Her hands began to tremble and mind started to strain as she got down truly to the end of her magical rope. There was one last gash on his side that needed to be treated, and Luthien fought through a skull pounding headache to accelerate the healing process. Just in time Arnor came back bearing the elfroot as the mage stepped back and allowed the ranger to use more conventional methods.

The tricky part was removing the boy's armor, done incorrectly there was the possibility of tearing the wound further. If the amount of red fluid that saturated the armor was any indication, he couldn't afford too much more blood loss. It was difficult, but Arnor had done this before. Many was a mission where one of the older Wardens needed help, and he was the only one who could provide it. Wiping away most of the blood with a spare cloth, Arnor resorted to tearing off some of his cloak to form a turicut to stop the bleeding after he applied the hastily brewed poultice.

Their new guest apparently had been running like hell since the battle, although considering he was behind them he must've heard the last horn call or been at the very front of the lines. If that was the case two things were to be considered: That that was the the reason for his extensive injuries, and that he was skilled enough to fight through a good number of the darkspawn to flee to this spot. In another life or another time he might have made a good Warden.

Her mind seemed to be fighting her, and exhaustion caught up to her once again as her legs began to wobble and refuse to support her body weight.

"You take first watch." She managed to say before laying down on the ground and finding out that Arnor's journal didn't make such a bad pillow.

* * *

Great. Now he was the one who would have to keep watch all night. How could he blame her though? He'd asked her to bring down an entire bridge with her magic, and to do something like that took time, focus, and energy. Something that was a luxury on the battlefield. Should he have asked her to do that? Could they have found a way out of there without resorting to massive destruction of property and exhaustion? Maybe they could've, maybe they couldn't have, his father told once him that dwelling too much on the what ifs would drive you crazy. And unless you were a berserker, crazy wasn't good in a fight, and it definitely wasn't good if you were in a position of leadership.

Leadership, what an interesting word. A word Alistair feared, and a word some like Duncan seemed to naturally fit into. If he was the senior Warden in... No! He had to stop that train of thought. He had to be alert. Anything from darkspawn, to hostile soldiers could be lurking around here. It was funny, Arnor never thought he might have to fear Ferelden soldiers, especially that of Teyrn Loghain. He would never try and betray his homeland! And yet now the Order he dedicated his life to was abandoned along with the king.

Nothing made sense anymore, Duncan dead, King Cailin dead, Alistair most likely dead, but him... He was alive, and so was the mage who was currently smashing the red book with her head. Turning his gaze to the ground he also remembered they had another guest along with them. Oh sod... the lad would turn into an icicle without something over him. It would be no good to patch up Carver's wounds and then have him freeze to death. Digging once again into his pack, Arnot found the spare cloak which served as a sort of padding for the bottom of the rough skin bag. Taking a small moment to throw the green cloth over the sleeping warrior, Arnor then tried to wrap himself with his now torn and bloodied cloak.

The chilly night's breeze was both a blessing and a curse as it made him extremely uncomfortable, but helped to keep him from falling asleep. There was supposed to be a balance to this thing. After a few hours another Warden would be woken to take his place and he could lie down for a few precious hours. Somebody had to make sure the wounded warrior and the exhausted mage were safe though. Even if it was a bedraggled and bloodied corn shucker from Redcliffe. At least the trees meant most of the rain was kept out. The rain was also a thing he remembered as a curse and blessing. Rain could either flood the fields, or nourish them. It's all about the amount, and the ground it's falling on.

What would he would give for a fire right about now... But alas all the tinder and kindling in the area was soaked and he couldn't leave these two out here. A howl reached his ears and Arnor got a little on edge at the prospect of a wolf attack. If they were attacked now by anyone though he wasn't sure how well they'd do. It would be nice to have Fluffy here, nothing got past him. Bella would be taking good care of him though, and the wolf would be taking care of her.

Would he ever see Redcliffe or his family again? Any of his friends from the life he'd been forced to leave behind? As a Warden he'd never gotten the chance to go back to the scarlet hills of his home. Now with the Blight raging and the last Teyrn turning his back on the king who knew what would happen if he tried to go back? Arl Eamon could very well have been apart of this mess at Ostagar. After all he hadn't sent any of his troops to aid the battle, what could be going on that he didn't know about?

With those troubling thoughts in mind the Warden found his will failing him and his eyes closing. The cold didn't seem so harsh and the wind didn't seem so biting as he let his mind wander and drift into the fade, or a much darker place.

* * *

_A red haze seemed to fill his vision as he stumbled blind through an unfamiliar landscape. What was all this? Fog? Mist? Gawain's Sunday Special? Where was he? He was walking on the side of a cliff of some sort. With the ravine going down far below anything he had ever seen before._

_Rock and dirt seemed to surround him and he looked down to see more darkspawn than the army at Ostagar. A multitude of every type and shape. With hurlocks, shrieks, and genlocks filled into lines of battle. Others were among them, some so strange and horrible they must've been from a time long before. For there are old and foul things in the deep places of the world beyond archdemons and darkspawn. Creatures unleashed by the Tevinters or the dwarves now in the thrall of the corrupted Old Gods._

_Turning his head back up he saw the beast. Saw the cause of all the death and destruction that was sure to rain on his homeland. The Archdemon, if the writings were true this was Urthemiel. Who the magisters worshiped as the dragon of beauty. Larger than the mightiest ships of Orlais, the creature let out a terrifying roar that seemed to split his ears with a mixture of shrill cry and a triumphant roar. A call to arms, a call for war, a call for a Blight. _

_He tried in vain to cover his ears with his hands, but his body didn't seem to listen. All he could do was stand and watch and harken to the voice that started to worm its way into his ear. He tried to scream, to move, to run away, but the voice and the dragon kept him locked in place. The voice kept getting closer and closer and louder and louder until he couldn't hear himself think._

_Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others, Duncan, Gawain, Hurin, and the rest of the Wardens trapped at Ostagar, they all were corpses or ghouls, it was hard to tell which. He even thought he could see Danson, Turgon, and Estel, people he had just seen through their Joining now shambling and corrupted. They all stood beckoning. Their horrid beautiful voices ringing in his ears. _

"_Death! War! Pillage! Kill! _

_Arnor! Arnor!"_

* * *

"Arnor!" Luthien shouted again as she shook him several times in an attempt to wake the sleeping Warden who was thrashing violently about.

"Agh!" He cried out as he stumbled back only to hit his head on a tree trunk behind him. Was it over? Was he awake?

"Hey?" The elf asked as she waved her hands in front of the fallen Warden. "You good?"

It only took one look from him to tell the whole story. Every Warden knew what it was, every Warden had different ways of coping. Arnor style was to melt away on his own for awhile, and this was no different. He slowly got up to his feet and stepped into the foliage. Even with the shining metal plates he somehow managed to disappear from sight leaving a minimal trail behind him.

"Stupid question..." The elf mumbled under her breath as she got back to the makeshift campsite where Carver sat wincing from his wounds and wrapped in the green cloak.

"What's going on? Is he alright?"

"Nothing that need concern you." She muttered too quickly to not arouse suspicion.

"He looked pretty spooked, bad dream?"

"You could say that..."

"It looked pretty bad though, if I didn't know better it looked like he'd seen the Archdemon itself." Carver said as he remembered waking up to the sound of the human Warden moved about violently in his sleep.

"He just may have." Luthien finished and a thick cloud of silence descended over the small clearing. The only noise audible was the wind and the occasional bird. Including a swallow which seemed to stare at them for awhile before flying off.

"So... You two both Wardens then?" The boy asked, trying to awkwardly start a conversation and break the monotonous quiet.

"Did the griffons tip you off?" Luthien questioned as she tore a piece of dried meat in an attempt to make it more palatable.

"Well... Maybe a little..."

"Who are you anyway? Farmboy seemed to recognize you, and you him but I've never seen ya before."

"Me? My name is Carver Dane Hawke, I am, actually I was a soldier in Bann Kenobi's army during that mess over there. Saw that old man shot full of arrows, he was a good Bann, Blighted darkspawn..."

"So how do you know Arnor?"

"We talked a bit before the battle, told me to swallow or vomit my fears. Kind of sounded like my older brother, he never takes anything seriously." Carver spat with the slightest bit of resentment in the word _brother_.

"Not a lot of love between siblings I take it?" Luthien asked curious how someone could hold such bitterness for their kin.

"It's my own business thank you very much." The warrior growled and Luthien gave up that line of thought.

The two sat waiting for a while before Arnor came back still with a glassy look on his eyes. The ranger sat down and all became silent for a few minutes before hunger won out over somberness.

"Got any more of that salted pork?" He asked Luthien who tossed him the last article of food.

"All we've got left, unless you got more it that _magical_ pack of yours. Don't see how it can hold so much, and how you carry it around all day..."

"You'd be surprised by the things you can fit into the average light backpack if you plan the storage right."

"We're gonna have to fill up that and maybe a pack animal or two if the plan's to trek around Ferelden and gather up an army."

"You two should probably stop by at Lothering." Carver suggested, as he slipped on his worn armor and strapped on his sword, "Wherever you plan going it's on the way there, and there's bound to be merchants passing through this time of year."

"Do you know the way?" Luthien asked while Arnor plucked a few more elfroot leaves in case they'd need them later.

"It should be just a few days north of here if we take the main roads. Ostagar and Lothering were both built on the Imperial Highway if what I heard's right."

Arnor then turned around from his foraging and shook his head at the suggestion, causing Carver slight irritation and confusion before he elaborated.

"We can't take the main roads. Chances are the Teyrn's army is going to be using it, and I don't want to chance that happening. I say we continue through the woods. We can still make due north, but the chances of us wandering into unfriendly eyes isn't as bad."

"Are you sure we need to do that? Even if he didn't show up, I doubt the Teyrn would order his men to kill Fereldens."

"He ordered his men to leave us for dead. That's almost as bad." Luthien mentioned dryly as the soldier went over the facts in his mind for a few moments.

"Alright, you've made your point Warden. We'll brave the wilderness."

"Good then," Arnor replied as slung his bag and bow over his back, "Let's get going, unless you want to stay a rest a bit?"

"I can cut across country easily enough." Luthien retorted as she got to her feet and dusted herself off, "Just lead the way shem."

Before the group broke the poor excuse for a camp, Luthien looked back behind him for a second. A great plume of smoke rose to the south from the direction of Ostagar. The darkspawn will have destroyed and corrupted everything they didn't burn. To anyone left in that valley, death would be a mercy compared to what the darkspawn would do to them. As she turned back around to follow Arnor and Carver, she wondered whether Loghain knew what he was abandoning good men and women to. Did he know of the horrors of being made a ghoul? Of the torture and the rape and and the pain that would come to those he left behind?

How could anyone who hadn't seen it, know what was in store for the victims of power-plays and betrayals? There was still hope though. The treaties could bring the armies, and their were still two Wardens to unite them. They would end the Blight, or die trying.

* * *

Pandemonium, absolute pandemonium. Rumors spread faster than plague or wildfire, and the rumors of Ostagar had already embedded themselves in the minds of the people. It didn't help that refuges from the southern bannorns and arlings had already shown up in droves, and Maker only knew how many more would be forced from their homes. This made the feeling in the Landsmeet chamber confused and tense. Each Bann had a different story to tell, and many cast wandering eyes on the many empty spaces left by those Arls and Banns that had been lost at Ostagar. In particular, the missing Teyrn Cousland brought great distress to several of the nobles who looked to him as a voice of reason and experience.

Queen Anora presided over the chamber in a gilded yet practical throne with her face and eyes betraying no emotion whatsoever. No sadness, no depression, no feelings it seemed as her face was as impassive as ever, it was no different from the look when she negotiated treaties or ordered the execution of criminals of the alienage who escaped justice by running to the Grey Wardens. While the whispers about the rift between Cailin and Anora were commonplace, many people expected at least some emotion from the now widowed woman. Others though, remembered that she was Loghain's daughter, and that was something that carried more weight than even her father knew.

Of all the figures assembled though one in particular stood out. While the rest of the nobles had come dressed in their finest silks and linens he had brought his best suit of mail bearing the white horse of Rainesfere. Bann Teagan, the Bannhammer of Ferelden, eyed the returning Teyrn Loghain and his entourage warily. While it was no surprise that Ser Cauthrien was beside him, but the big nosed Arl of Amaranthine was a new ally for the man who, if the rumors were true, was about to declare himself regent. A silence fell over the room as the aged Teyrn stood from the chair he'd requisitioned for himself, and started to speak.

"My lords and ladies of Ferelden, it is with a heavy heart I bring you the news of the death of our King, Cailan Theirin, as well as many other esteemed figures in the Landsmeet. In the battle with the darkspawn massed in the south the king and many nobles, including the Arl of Denerim were betrayed by the Grey Wardens and led to their deaths."

"While I tried to convince our liege of this folly he failed to heed my advice and was slain on the field. I alone saw the Warden's trap, and withdrew my forces to prevent their slaughter. Without a clear heir to the throne, and after conferring with the queen, the decision has been made to appoint me regent of the land until the next Landsmeet can be called."

A pregnant pause fell over the crowd as each noble took in the information, and the it was all shattered in a cacophony of noise that filled room. Questions, accusations, demands, they all flew around the chamber as each tried to make his voice heard.

"How can you be sure of the king's death?"

"The Grey Wardens would never betray the county!"

"Who will defend us?"

"Death to the Wardens!"

"This is our punishment for raising a commoner to royalty!"

"This is folly if I've ever heard it!"

"You abandoned the king!"

And on and on and on the words were shot. Swords, ceremonial or otherwise were nearly drawn until a loud voice echoed through the wooden halls.

"Enough!" Loghain declared, as he slammed his mailed fist on the balcony rail, gaining the attention and silence of the room. "The darkspawn are still a threat to the nation, while this may not be a Blight we will need to rebuild from what was lost at Ostagar. What is needed now is decisive action, and sensible conduct. The loss of an army and a king does not equal the loss of a nation, while free Fereldens still live, I will not let this land fall!"

It seemed as though the general was daring anyone to stand up to him. As of anyone would dare challenge the Hero of River Dane, the savior of Ferelden, the commander of her armies.

Except one Bann, from a backwater section of the country known throughout the land for speaking his mind, stepping forward to the view of the entire chamber.

"Your lordship, if I may," He began, ever polite despite his bluntness, "You ask of us men, and undoubtedly there will be money needed to supply them. But what of the army that was lost under your watch at Ostagar? The King's Army, the Royal Army, your withdrawal of Gwaren's forces was most... Fortuitous. The king is dead, and now before the mourning begins you have already declared yourself regent. Is there more to Ostagar than what we've been told?"

"You would dare slander my lord!" Ser Cauthrien exclaimed, drawing her sword and leaping from the balcony to the main chamber, "If you would challenge the Teyrn's honor you would challenge me to a duel!"

In response, Tegan drew his own blade and readied his shield in a direct challenge to the knight. "You wish for a duel captain? Then I will give it to you!" The assembled men and women gasped and eased back as the two circled around each other with their weapons free. Like mabari hounds or wolves in the wild each waited for the other to strike and reveal their hand. The temper of the Gwaren native pushed through the warrior' straining and she made the first strike.

The Summer Sword leaped forward with great speed as it's wielder moved to put all her force behind the strike. The blow staggered the Bann who was forced back only to face another swipe from the greatsword. This time Teagan bore the brunt of the attack with his shield causing pain to jolt through his arm like lightning. This didn't stop him from using his shield in a series of quick strikes that threatened to overwhelm the Captain of Maric's Shield.

The Bann and used the extra speed afforded by a longsword to his advantage as he struck diagonally and pushed his offensive. Ser Cauthrien caught the blade in a block and the two strained as Teagan had the advantage of a downward motion while Cauthrien had the strength and support of both her arms behind her. With a cry she pushed the longsword off and made another sweeping strike that Teagan tried to block with his blade. Instead the sword was flung from his hand and he was left with only his shield for a weapon.

For many warriors the next downward stroke from a knight would have been the end, but instead of submitting or cowering behind his kite shield, Teagan bashed with the veridium metal and the forced the knight captain back across the room. The fight might have gone even further had two guards from the hall not strung their bows loudly and called the belligerents to cease their fighting.

"Stand down! Both of you!" The guard captain commanded, a grizzled greying man who'd seen the worst of the Bannorn, "I will not have more fighting in these chambers!"

The two warriors, already panting and feeling the strain of combat sheathed their blades and backed away from each other. Loghain took this moment of silence to make another announcement to the nobility and affirm his authority.

"Do not try to misconstrue my actions _Bann, _everything I have done has been to keep Fereldens free, I have not worked to undermine the sovereignty of the throne, and neither will any of you!"

"The Bannorn will not bow to you simply because you demand it, or because you tried to coerce us with violence!"

"Understand this, understand all of you, I will brook no threat to this nation, from you or anyone! No force shall destroy our home if we stand together! You must stand beside me, or you will see our country torn asunder!" With that final statement Loghain cleared out the room with his guards and Arl Howe. He was followed by Ser Cauthrien who exited to meet him outside.

As soon as the self proclaimed regent left the chamber was again filled with the sound of bickering nobles that seemed to divide itself right down the middle. It was a battle of wills and interests as a good majority of the banns spoke in disgust for the man who pushed himself into this position of power. Who could unite them though? The Couslands had been wiped out for ostensibly working with Orlais and Howe now well known as Loghain's ally.

The next best candidate was Arl Eamon, but word hadn't come from Redcliffe in weeks. Many started to wonder what had happened to the king's uncle, and a few whispered this had something to do with the treachery of his Orleaisan wife. Without him though, the Bannorn turned to the man who dared speak out and stand against the most powerful man in Ferelden. Bann Teagan found himself surrounded by disgruntled and angry nobles, free men, proud men, men who would not bow to any man they themselves did not appoint. Loghain would have to learn the hard way what Maric once had to discover, freeing a nation is not the same as keeping it together.

All the while the blonde dowager queen silently scanned each noble, and with cold green eyes turned the gears in her head. She was Fereleden's queen, while her father had the power now, she would always do what was best for Ferelden, Maker help whoever got in her way.

* * *

They'd been traveling through the woods for days now. She wasn't sure if Arnor exactly knew where he was going, but the boy they'd met said it was just north of Ostagar. How hard would it be even for Arnor to get them going north? Exactly how long had she been sleeping in the mud and having to forage for food in this Maker forsaken wasteland? She'd seen the moon what was it, four times, maybe three? How many days ago was group who she expected to work with for years to come killed in one fell swoop?

She'd always knew she'd escape the Circle one day. Maybe she'd be able to live a normal life, or maybe go to Tevinter where she could actually use her magic without getting thrown into a tower. But when the Wardens offered a place, a purpose, a chance, she jumped at it and jumped headlong. Warden mages were free, Warden mages had no Templars looking over their shoulders. She knew that there was an inherent danger to being a mage, what a terror and menace demons and abominations were, but that shouldn't justify the loss of freedom. Should it?

At least at Circle trained her, gave her a bed and books. It could've been worse, she heard stories about the lives of mages in other Circles. They made Kinloch Hold seem like a palace by comparison. There was a price to freedom, there was a price for everything, like the price of becoming a Warden. The tainted blood that would one day call her to a violent early death in the Deep Roads. Right now though, the price of being a Warden seemed to be living like a refugee and hoping the town you're searching for is in the direction you're heading.

The weather seemed to be getting slightly warmer. Although that may have just been an indication of the seasons changing and not them getting any further north. If only they had a map and maybe a compass! Then they'd be able to get somewhere. She was reminded of Krebs, a Warden from the Anderfels who always seemed to have his head in maps and books. He was always the one to map out and chart the various missions Duncan planned. But here she was, relying on Arnor for long term travel and navigation. He'd been leading them north north-west for awhile now. His _brilliant plan _was to get as far away from the roads as possible for a few days, heading north east, then slowly work their way back to the direction of Lothering.

"We're out!" Arnor suddenly declared as the trees began to part and Luthien thought she could see the light breaking through the woods.

"I still don't know why we couldn't take the bloody road! All this wildlife's getting everywhere!" Carver grumbled as he stumbled his way through the bush and roots,

"A little time in the outdoors isn't so bad Hawke! Just gotta get used to it!"

"Well, I don't think getting used to mud and twigs and rain is high on my list of priorities right now. And anyway, why do keep calling me by my last name? People usually only ever do that to my brother." Carver asked as his foot found leafless dirt once more.

"Sounds better, and anyway, just cause someone's the older child doesn't mean they're the only with the family name." Arnor sounded like might have been was joking with the first part, but Luthien heard something a bit more personal, something a bit more somber in the second. Arnor spoke scarcely about his family, and when he did it was usually positive, but she always wondered why he never spoke much about them. Especially as Alistair and her prodded him as to what it was like to live a normal life.

The trio exited the trees and found they'd ended up right near a stretch of the Imperial Highway. In the distance the village could be seen. Windmills, hovels, and of course a Chantry, all the things common to a Ferelden town. The group marched on towards now on the hard cobblestone of the old Tevinter roads, but to get into Lothering one had to pass through an old toll station that blocked both entrance and passage through the trading settlement. Like any respectable ruin some very unrespectable were using it to perform unsanctioned tasks. A group of seven bandits had set up shop and decided to waylay the party.

"Well well well, lookie what we've got ere boys! Some more travelers who need to pay our toll to get by!" The leader announced as the others flashed their weapons in a show of intimidation.

"Bandits," Carver cursed and swore as the pain from his wounds flared up again, "These bastards are preying on the people fleeing the Blight! I say we cut them down!"

"Wait for a moment." Arnor commanded as the Hawke grumbled a bit but fell in line.

"You don't look like you're from around these parts so I'll cut you some slack, and I'm not gonna charge you for telling you the rules, everybody has to pay a toll to get anywhere past us! Fourty silvers, or else!"

"How generous..." Luthien muttered under her breath as she tried to work out the best way to deal with these thugs.

"Umm boss... Look at the birdies on their clothes." One of the larger members of the group pointed out "That a big yellow birdie right? Does that mean them's Grey Wardens?"

"Intresting... Grey Wardens killed the king and tried to betray the nation. There's a big bounty on their heads!"

"What are you talking about?" Arnor asked, as his hand fell towards his blade and he quickly gestured to Luthien to prepare for trouble.

"Nothing you're gonna need to know!" The lead said whilst drawing his crude sword and shield, "The poster didn't say you needed to be alive!"

The outlaw leader swung his sword downward just as Arnor unsheathled his blade to block it. Throwing off the offending weapon Arnor slammed the pommel of his sword into the leader's head and tried maneuvered his way so that the man's body was between him and the lanky bandits wielding crossbows. Another lad with a mace struck out but Arnor sidestepped just in time for the thug to be hit with a bolt of spirit energy from Luthien that tore through his armor and insides.

The three crossbowmen in the rear of the enemy lines tried to fire their bolts in excitement only to find their dilapidated weapons were more fit for intimidation than actual combat. These cowardly scavengers hadn't come across anyone willing to resist them, but Grey Wardens are not easily deterred. Two of them managed to get his weapon functioning and with trembling hands they shot out managing to hit Arnor in the shoulder and right arm. The ranger lurched in pain as the force of the close range shots dug the projectiles deep past his armor, but for the archers' troubles Luthien gathered up the energy for a cone of cold that froze them all solid.

Carver found himself in the unamiable position of fighting the last and largest of the bandits who held a claymore of considerable size. The soldier's heavier greatsword meant he was often reacting to the other's attacks and the man he was fighting clearly had the edge in raw strength. But strength was be developed and training counts for more that people think. The larger man swung wide and wasted energy. His attacks had power but no focus. Carver kept his blocks firm and waited for the opening that would come. Then he saw it, a horizontal strike too wide and too open for Carver not to exploit. Now was his chance, Carver brought his sword down hard and cleaved through the man's iron chainmail taking the man down and out.

The last outlaw holding out a chipped axe thought he'd found an easy target with Arnor bleeding and struggling to hold his sword in his off hand. The man chuckled as Luthien moved to step between the two, evidently he'd not paid attention when the small elf had frozen three of his compatriots.

"Back off," she growled while the bandit moved to strike.

'This will be easy pickings' he thought as he brought the axe down only to find it stopped by twisted heartroot and a intense pain in his gut soon followed, as the mage slammed the back end of staff first into the outlaws gut and then unto his head knocking him out cold.

With the belligerents contained Luthien took the chance to turn back around and see Arnor grinning despite wincing in pain and a clear trail of blood seeping down from his arm. He managed to get up back to his feet, but stumbled again

"Guess I need to work on dodging don't I?" Arnor chuckled while Luthien scowled looking at his wounds.

"We're gonna need to patch you up fast if you're ever gonna keep shooting that bow of yours." The mage remarked as she let her comrade support himself lightly on her shoulder for the time being before turning to talk to Carver. "Kid, you know anywhere we might be able to hide out and get Arnor fixed up with attracting attention?"

"My family's house is probably the best and only place you're gonna be able to go, the inns are almost always busy and if there's refugees coming here, I don't you're gonna find any rooms open."

"I'd rather sleep in a stable than be a burden to your family." Arnor informed while he bit down on some of the extra elfroot he'd picked earlier.

"I'm not going to be that ungrateful bastard that lets people who helped save his life sleep on the ground, and I'm sure my folks isn't that way either."

"Come on farmboy, we've probably got no better options. Let's just go!" Luthien demanded as the frown on her faced deepened with the growing amount of blood Arnor was losing.

"Fine, fine," The ranger relented, "Which way to your homestead then?"

"It's just over here, let's go and maybe have a hot meal for once..."

"I hear that!" The two Wardens said almost simultaneously as the adventure of a lifetime prepared to get itself in full swing.


End file.
